Double Blind
by Asviloka
Summary: He remembered a betrayal that couldn't have happened, and lived with a defeat that couldn't have come about. Conclusion: Something was very wrong. Alone and confused on a Republic ship of all things, he must somehow find his way back through layers upon layers of deception, with even the Force hardly able to aid him. (KotOR AU) [Updates 5th of each month]
1. Rewritten

_**CAUTION: This story contains immediate spoilers for Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. If you haven't already played the game and somehow made it here without having the storyline ruined already, I implore you to go play it first.**_ _The fic will still be here in a few weeks, you have my word. I will never delete my writing, for any reason._

 _Author's Notes:_ _Yes, another one. Because KotOR is just so incredible, it can't be contained in any one fiction. This is my third KotOR fanfiction attempt, and as you can see I'm getting a bit more daring with each one._

 _This one is WAY alternate-universe-y, though the initial events will play out moderately close to the original it's going to diverge way farther and way faster than Fall With Me did. (That was close to a playthrough log at first, my first ever attempt at longform fanfiction, and I was a bit timid about 'ruining' canon. No longer.)_

 _As it has been a matter of confusion, this will not be a powerful!Revan carving his way through the galaxy with lightsaber and Force. He's restricted and limited in power, and will remain such for a long time. If he does ever regain his active command of the Force, it will not ever be as strong as he once was. The damage done to him in this version is not so easily reversible.  
_

 _This is not a canon-compliant or necessarily canon-divergent story. This is an alternate version of the universe. Characters' motivations may be different from canon: this is deliberate._

 _Please note: Like Revans Reborn, this one will be updated sporadically as the whim strikes me. I cannot commit to updating regularly on multiple projects, and Fall With Me remains my primary priority._

 _That's it, I think. Hope you like it, and please let me know what you think!_

* * *

It was absurd.

The thought kept drifting through me, the facets of the problem twinkling the same in any light or at any angle. There was no way this could be accepted as a plausible future, as an actual event.

A Jedi strike team managed to slip aboard my ship to confront me. And at the _same time_ , my faithful friend and apprentice chose to turn on me?

The damage to my ship was minimal, I knew. Malak's attack threw out the grav-gen, the ship lurched and I lost my balance. Still, I was far stronger than all the Jedi that had come against me. Even without my mastery of the Force, even with only a single ceremonial blade to hand, there should have been no contest whatsoever between us.

It was absurd. How had I been _defeated_ so easily?

Something was very wrong. Ripples of Force, of memory, of the past and the future, twisted around in the darkness of my thoughts. I tried to see the problem from another angle, in another light, but no matter how much the events of my defeat were examined they just _didn't_ match with anything I could claim as reality.

Fact: I am locked within myself, my mind and body separated, and strongly enough that I cannot force myself to wholeness.

Conjecture: I have been defeated.

Event One: Jedi strike team - how in the world could the Jedi have infiltrated my ship in the first place? I have protocols in place. I am a strategic genius. I can _sense strong Force users_ at a distance far greater than the simple confines of my ship.

Event Two: Malak betrays me - why? Did he _sense_ the Jedi strike team from his ship away, sense the threat to me even when I couldn't?

It was absurd. Try as I might, I could come to no reasonable theory for my current obviously-defeated state.

Or was it not defeat, perhaps? Something I'd chosen to do?

It _could_ be an advanced Force state, withdrawing into myself to protect my core identity from something. Torture, perhaps? Though something so traumatizing would probably have left at least _some_ memory trace. I experimented with advanced meditation from time to time, but never even heard of one so deep that even the one initiating it couldn't return.

Something was very wrong. I just could not make the facts and threads line up. This was not normal for me. See _strategic genius_. I understood things instinctively, made connections others would have had to grasp for.

But now, I couldn't. Now, I was lost in confusion and uncertainty.

My thoughts lurched, stretched. I panicked for an instant, then recognized the pull. Someone was trying to reconnect my drifting mind to my physical body. I could resist, but remembered no reason to do so. The possibility that I was only rushing to my own destruction held no terror for me, only a faint curiosity.

Something was very wrong, and I couldn't figure out what it was. Perhaps this deep meditation or whatever it was actually hindered my thoughts from coalescing properly. I slid back toward completeness, my mind and body no longer split apart.

 _Melar Serav, hyperspace scout. Searching for a new route that would bypass Taris. Hired by the Republic to join an escort mission in the area because I need the credits._

WHAT?!

I pulled away instinctively, trying to shake off the afterimages of that _memory_. What? No! I was Lord Revan, conqueror of the galaxy. Not a _hyperspace scout_. Wasn't I?

 _Delusions of grandeur, but too cowardly to join either side in the conflict. Only accepted the escort mission because I *really* need the credits._

No, no, no! This was wrong, wrong. But the tug came again, more insistent, drawing me out of my hiding place within myself.

Conjecture: Mental reprogramming. Disjointed memories, because partially successful. Core identity uncertain. Captors, unknown. Jedi? _Malak?_ Why, how. . .?

"Wake up, Melar!"

"NO!" I shouted, jumping to my feet. The sudden motion and my unfamiliarity with the area sent my head into a spinning ache, everything blurred dizzily around me and I stumbled to my knees.

"Uh, are you alright?"

"NO!" I yelled again, waving my hand to keep him away. "What. . . What. . ." I was in a ship, Republic-style. Crew quarters?

"We've been ambushed—"

"No! Shut up, not you. What's happening?" Distant alarms. The shield flickered, repeated impacts.

"The Sith—"

"Quiet!" We were under attack?

"Melar—"

 _"NO!"_

I had to get away. This guy was making my headache worse, and the room still hadn't stopped spinning.

"Fact: No longer on my own ship. Kidnapped?"

"Melar, what are you _talking_ about?!" The man's voice sounded frantic now. "We have to go, the Sith are—"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" I shrieked. "Conjecture: I'm a prisoner? No, doesn't fit the facts. Strange man trying to confuse me. Interrogation? No. Doesn't make sense. This isn't how an interrogation goes."

"Melar, we have to protect Bastila _now_ , the Sith are boarding—"

"Sith. Boarding." The words sparked my confusion anew. "No, it was the Jedi boarding. Or is that not a fact any longer?"

The man took my arm, hauled me to my feet. "Hurry up and grab your gear. I don't care if you're half asleep, there's no time for this nonsense!"

He gave me a shove toward the footlocker. I stumbled, fell to my knees again, clutched my pounding head in my hands.

"Attack, confusion." My thoughts snapped into clear focus. "Integration. That's what they want. They want the chaos to form a nucleus around which my false identity can stabilize. But which identity is false?"

"Melar—"

"YES, you're right. Melar is obviously false." My thoughts and words shifted from frantic confusion to certainty. "Thank you," I said, rising to my feet and watching the stranger imperiously. "You're dismissed."

"It's our duty to protect—"

I laughed at him. "Duty? No. My only duty is to my followers. You, I can tell, are not one of my followers."

"You're obviously having some kind of episode, but I need you to focus. We are _under attack_! Get dressed, grab your weapons!"

"No, I think not. I understand everything now. This is a rescue attempt. Your manipulative Jedi mental powers have failed. Did you really think I would believe that _Malak_ would _turn on me?_ You obviously have been laboring under some severely deluded beliefs about Sith hierarchy."

The strange man looked at me like I was crazy.

I looked at him as though _he_ were crazy, and furthermore beneath my concern. Then I crossed to the bed, seated myself for meditation, glared at the stranger. "This is your last chance. You are _dismissed_."

He looked about ready to drag me down the corridor by force, but the ship shuddered again at the bombardment taking place. He gave one last glance at me, then scowled.

"Fine, I give up. Sit here and die, not my problem." He tapped in the access code, ran off down the hall.

I closed my eyes, plunged myself into the Force. A shining thread of intangible light reflected through my core, my Force Bond to my apprentice.

 _"Malak,"_ I whispered. _"I'm here."_

 _"Melar! What are you doing in my mind?!"_

The voice that responded was _not_ Malak's. It was a woman, young by the feel of her, but as strong in potential as anyone I'd met.

And she called me _Melar_.

I cut off the connection faster than a dropped lightsaber. So _that_ was their plan? They _hijacked_ my bond? Malak wouldn't be able to sense me any longer. He'd think I was _dead_! This wasn't a rescue, this was _revenge_.

And I would be tied to this _Jedi_ girl, helpless. Unable to contact anyone.

Fact: The Jedi underestimated the strength of my mind. I am still aware of myself. Either through self-protection or whatever inexplicable event actually led to my capture, my core identity was preserved and strong enough to claim dominance.

Fact: Malak and I are no longer connected. This will lead to problems very quickly for my war effort, without me to lead.

I sighed, stood up, reluctantly put on my explorer's outfit and generic Republic armor. If I was going to be killed, it would _not_ be for stupid reasons like not wearing armor or remaining stubbornly on a doomed ship.

Goal: Find a way to return to Malak. First step: Survive this battle, find a place to consider things more calmly.

I crossed to the door, sealed again automatically. I closed my eyes, replayed in memory the ripples through the Force that corresponded to the movements of the stranger. Access code 3-4-0-2-2-9.

The next door was sealed as well, but my Force sense range was well sufficient to cover the entire ship and then some. My extreme clarity of memory and rapid analysis abilities were a large part of my success, coupled with Malak's own talents and my Force strength.

 _Malak betrayed me. The Jedi somehow got onto my ship. Is it possible those are actually true?_

Doubtful. But I could always sort that out later. Right now, I had to find a shuttle or, barring that, at least an escape pod. This ship was rapidly approaching its limit, and the evacuation of other personnel was almost complete.

Then another Force signature approached, rapidly closing on the ship. Bandon, Malak's understudy, and two other Dark Jedi. Shone and Devre, if I was remembering correctly. All three had bought into Malak's whole 'go bald or go home' mindset.

I didn't mind. After all, I wore a ridiculously overwrought cape and mask. Why bother being Dark Lords if we couldn't play it up a bit?

My first instinct was to go find them, ask for a ride to Malak's ship, and trust that my intimate knowledge of their lives was enough to stop them executing me on the spot.

But they were almost certainly here hunting Jedi, and my powerful Force ability - suppressed and altered as it was - would mark me clearly while not identifying me as their ally. They wouldn't risk bringing me anywhere _near_ Malak, and probably have me restrained for months before I could persuade them of my true identity. If they didn't just kill me.

This was going to be harder than I'd expected.


	2. Trapped

_Bonus update for May the Fourth~_

 _Author's Note : __I have a couple more chapters started, but remember that this is the tertiary side-project. Updates will be slow._

* * *

The shuttles were gone. The escape pods were gone. The ship was doomed, and I along with it. Bandon, Shone, and Devre were closing in on my position. Sith soldiers were combing the corridors.

I had no lightsaber, and my access to the Force had been restricted to read-only. Frustration wasn't enough to break through whatever block the Jedi had put on my mind.

And I _still_ felt at least halfway like the hyperspace explorer whose one-man ship was stowed below-decks and couldn't wait to get back to his lane-scouting.

 _Wait. Ship? Stowed below-decks?_

I ran to the nearest elevator, hoping beyond hope that the cargo area wasn't looted yet, that these fake memories the Jedi had tried to write into me were at least accurate in this instance. The elevator door was closed, locked down. I lacked any memory far enough back or high enough rank to override it. I had a basic Republic-issue blaster and basic Republic-issue short sword.

No lightsaber. No Force Push.

I smacked my hand hard on the sealed door, getting only a dull thud. It was solid.

Cargo area. Cargo area. I didn't know enough about the layout of the Hammerheads. I'd never served on one specifically, and after. . . after the. . . at some point I'd gotten my own flagship, but it was a different style entirely.

I shoved aside a half-dozen _brilliant_ escape plans, all of which required at least _either_ Force abilities or a lightsaber.

Shone and Devre split off, leaving Bandon to come at me straight on, while the Sith soldiers began tightening their search. My Force signature echoed out clearly, I knew.

I could find access hatches, but the cargo hold was four floors down and I had no confidence in my ability to evade so many Sith so organized. I could sense them coming, but not do anything about it. I was decently practiced with a blaster, not completely inept with a vibroblade, but I couldn't bet on the Force responding to me during battle which was one thing I normally relied upon _very_ heavily.

 _"Melar, where are you? Why didn't you answer your comlink?"_

I grimaced. That Jedi girl. She still had access to my mind-contact through her usurped bond. I hadn't had time to decide what to do about her yet. But if she insisted on intruding, she might be able to help me out of this predicament.

 _"I'm trying to get to my ship,"_ I replied. _"The turbolift is locked down and Sith soldiers are closing in. Do you have the override codes?"_

 _"S-H-A-N-7-3-1-1-9,"_ the Jedi said. _"Hurry! My escape pod crashed on Taris, we need to find a way to escape Malak."_

I laughed, but took care not to transmit my amusement through the bond. Cutting her off again, I typed in the override code. The turbolift powered up, the door opened, and new alarms began quietly beeping in the vicinity.

I didn't know how to re-engage the lockdown once I arrived at the cargo hold, but Bandon would be delayed at least a little by the choke point. If his soldiers continued down the access hatches, taking the long way around to surround me and cut off any hope of escape, that would be another few minutes' delay.

I had to hope the Jedi had refueled my ship as they promised.

 _What ship? I'm not a hyperspace scout! This isn't mine, this is Melar someone's._

"Fact: I have no other way off this death trap," I told myself as I hurried along the empty corridor. "No one else is alive here except Malak's soldiers who will not know me for myself. Conclusion: The ship _is_ mine now. Melar whoever doesn't need it."

Devre was nearest me, actually, now I bothered to check. He was leading a group of soldiers down from the level above. I didn't have much time left.

The cargo area was crowded with storage units, some smaller than a speeder, others far bigger than would be needed to fit my scout ship.

I groaned at the realization that fully a third of them would be the right size, and I had not seen the shipping manifests. The Force could show me the outlines of inanimate objects with effort, but it always preferred to stay focused to living things.

I drew it in, focused into each transport crate. Not my ship, not my ship, not my— wait, who brought _that_ along? No, none of my business. Not my ship, not my ship. . .

Devre's presence suddenly blazed out in my focused sphere of attention. He was _way_ too close, closing in along the aisle on the other side of the huge crates.

"Devre, wait, it's me, Revan!" I shouted, but didn't stop my search. I may be able to delay him, but with all the changes the Jedi caused to me, I doubted he would be willing to trust me.

Then I cursed myself for ineptitude. I'd _forgotten_ to open the bay doors! What was _wrong_ with me? Even if I found my ship _and_ was somehow able to get it out of its storage crate, I wouldn't be able to fly anywhere.

"I can sense your power," Devre replied. "And it is _nothing_ like that of our fallen Lord."

Now I really _had_ to convince Devre of the truth. With the Force I may have been able to accomplish a daring escape but with only read-access and a few mental tricks moving the ship would be practically impossible.

"The Jedi captured me, somehow, and tried to change me." I laughed, tried to sound genuinely amused rather than frantic. "They tried to convince me that Malak had turned on me, betrayed and attacked me."

"You are only trying to delay me, frightened Jedi fool," Devre said, and I heard the hiss-thrum of his lightsaber. He was on the other side of the crate I stood behind.

If I could get his lightsaber away, I might be able to get somewhere. But without the Force, I was _helpless_. He would be able to take it back with ease.

Frustration and anger boiled up in me, overriding any sense of fear.

"Fact: Devre will not believe me," I muttered rapidly. "I need to extract a ship from a crate with no lightsaber or Force powers."

I stiffened, turned to where the Sith soldiers had spread out to surround me. They were closing fast, but if I was right. . .

YES! I sensed their shuttle, they had come in a _shuttle_! It was still attached to the hammerhead, Bandon and Shone were coming for me, their soldiers were not paying any attention to protecting their ship. They thought they had the last Jedi cornered, but that meant that if I could somehow manage to get past their line of defence, I'd have a clear run to their shuttle.

"What are you mumbling about, tiny Jedi?" Devre's voice came from above me now, he was up on the storage crates. I had to move.

Relaxing my Force sense into a wide sweep of the ship for life, I quickly formed a mental map of the areas I could properly understand.

The turbolift was still unlocked. Bandon was moving down in it right now. Sith soldiers moved toward me along this aisle and those on either side, but hadn't reached the other side of my aisle yet. Without the Force to jump over the rows of tight-packed crates, they'd be more limited than Devre or Bandon.

I sprinted for the far end of the cargo bay, hoping to get free of the trap before it could close.

"Conjecture: This is completely hopeless," I muttered to myself. Devre was drawing on the Force, moving faster than any natural creature could contest with. And for the moment, I was stuck on the same level as natural creatures.

I drew my standard Republic-issue vibroblade, hoped its cortosis was stable enough to hold up to actual lightsaber combat. I wasn't going to get anything better.

Devre's presence closed in, and I spun to meet his attack. The Force flowed, shone around us. He was drawing on it, while I could only read it. That was enough. I knew Devre's fighting style, knew his weaknesses and strengths. He was nowhere near Bandon's level, who was nowhere close to Malak, who was hardly close to me.

But it was far too much of an even match for my comfort. I was able to hold Devre off, but Bandon had reached the cargo level and was running toward us. I would _not_ be able to hold them both off.

"Devre, look at me! Listen, I'm _Revan_ , I need to get back to the fleet, stop trying to kill me."

The Republic-issue uniform was not doing much good for my case. Why had I spent so much effort being mysterious? If I'd been willing to let a few more people see me without my robes and mask. . . sure, it would have ruined my chances of doing covert work when needed under my own face, but then I wouldn't be in this situation.

"You are _nothing_ like Lord Revan!" Devre hissed.

I parried his lightsaber, but my blade was too short to properly strike. And I didn't _want_ to hurt him. But I only had a minute at most before Bandon reached us.

"Conclusion: Violence is the only way out," I muttered. "I'm sorry, Devre."

I put every bit of my strength and cunning into my next attack sequence, no longer allowing myself to be driven back. Devre moved fast, he moved confidently, but I was no mere Jedi opponent. I pressed my thoughts into the Force, pushing to see past the next instant and project the future across our tiny personal battle. I had to get his saber away, and disable him sufficiently that he couldn't retrieve it from me immediately.

Devre was eighteenth in the hierarchy of the Dark Jedi under myself and Malak. Better at strategy than most, but not as experienced in combat. Recruited from the Jedi, he didn't have any of the Korriban recruits' raw anger and dark Force abilites.

He moved, and I countered. His speed was all but nullified as I watched his actions an instant before he made them, a second before.

A lot can be changed in a second.

I twisted away, brought my blade down across his arm in a slice that would have severed it had my blade been anything but plain metal.

I spun back, time seeming to slow as I ducked under the lightsaber with absolute precision, slid my blade free and deflected the lightsaber's motion upward just a few inches, then slashed across his chest.

The armor across his shoulders let out a ringing screech as my blade scraped against it. I cursed myself again. How had I forgotten that he wore _armor?_ My habits of thought were all based around lightsaber combat, and full cortosis body armor was far more expensive and rare. But even the simplest of armor would suffice against my standard Republic-issue short sword.

I was too close to him, there wasn't any other way out. His saber began to descend toward me, and I dropped my own sword, grabbed his saber hand in both of my own, held it away from me.

Force tried to push me away, but my buffer of protection still existed. I couldn't _control_ the Force in any way, but a lifetime of habit protecting myself was apparently strong enough to override whatever the Jedi had done to weaken me.

"I'm sorry, Devre," I said again, then threw my weight forward onto his saber arm.

We went tumbling to the ground. I brought my knee up between my hands as we fell, felt the crack as my weight snapped his arm against the metal floor.

He screamed, not prepared, not expecting such an unusual move. I grabbed the lightsaber from his grasp, and ran before he could recover.


	3. Exposed

Facts: Bandon was closing in. I couldn't outrun him without the Force. But at least I had a lightsaber now.

I focused my senses on the physical world, feeling the contours of each massive storage crate and their myriad contents. Weapons, clothing, medical supplies. My ship, two aisles over and too closely packed to fly out. Landspeeders, completely unsuited for use in space. Personal belongings from a hundred soldiers now dead.

"Reason it out, Revan," I whispered. I kept running, but reigned in my thoughts from reaction mode. "Think first."

Devre would delay Bandon only a moment. Bandon was not a healer, and thus would only wait long enough to obtain any tactically relevant details his injured compatriot could offer.

Shone was circling around with his own troops, trusting to the slow steady approach. He was still several corridors away from the cargo area and one floor up. I had probably a good two minutes before he arrived to complicate matters further.

Even with a lightsaber, I couldn't possibly get my ship out of its storage crate _and_ clear a space for it to launch _and_ melt through the outer hull before I was caught.

Bandon might listen. More likely he wouldn't. I had never liked him much anyway, and our relationship was hardly amicable enough for him to take any great risk on my behalf.

I instinctively tried to reach for Malak to call his understudy off, before remembering that Jedi girl had usurped our bond. I didn't say anything to her, dropped the connection at once.

"What _happened_?!" I raged. This was wrong, so wrong, so frustrating, so confusing. I wasn't used to being without sufficient information to make decisions.

"Facts: I have no time, no resources capable of sustaining my life outside of the ship."

I hesitated, returned my attention to the storage crates. Something I'd seen. . . I replayed the memory.

"Correction: I _currently_ have no resources allowing survival in space."

I ran back the way I'd come, slashed open the correct storage cube. The lightsaber felt clumsy in my hand without the Force guiding and flowing through me, but it still melted durasteel like wax.

Space suits. Three of them, outdated models in someone's personal effects. I grabbed the nearest one, hit the activation switch to start filling the air tank, then turned and ran. Bandon would be in sight in moments, I'd wasted a good twenty seconds.

I struggled to put on the suit as I ran. It slowed me down, each moment bringing my death nearer to certainty. I couldn't outrun him, couldn't escape without the suit, couldn't afford to pause.

It would be close, too close even for my calculations to be sure of the outcome.

I reached the far wall of the cargo bay, stopped and yanked the pants on, buckled them tight, sealed the zip around my middle. Helmet, on. Gloves, on. Boots— no time, he was here.

I swung my lightsaber up, intercepted Bandon's strike with a sizzling clash. "Bandon, please listen. It's me, Revan. I need to get back to Malak right away, the Jedi did something to me and I can't think straight."

He laughed, ignored my pleas, and tried to slice me in half.

I blocked, dodged, parried. My movements were slow, hampered by the bulky suit, while his were smooth and perfect, enhanced with Force flowing through him.

I missed that so badly, I wanted to scream.

"Last chance," I hissed, driving forward in a desperate attempt to hold him off. His double-ended saber was proving extraordinarily difficult to evade for long, even with the Force showing me the immediate future.

"Die, fool Jedi," Bandon replied, and charged forward.

I slipped aside at the very last instant, spun around and shoved him into the wall. He twisted, brought his saber up, the back blade coming far too close to my chest for comfort as I barely slipped away. I slashed down toward him and he dodged easily aside.

I wasn't trying to hit him, just get him to react long enough to be out of my way. My saber burned a two-inch hole in the hull, broke the ship's integrity, allowed the air pressure to start flooding out. Alarms sounded and the massive secondary blast door began descending.

Bandon jumped back out of the way, avoiding the descending metal shield, while I moved forward and pressed myself against the breached hull. This section of wall had about a foot clearance before the emergency seal. I could stay outside of the descending wall, survive the depressurization where Bandon couldn't.

He realized my plan and snarled at me, but it was too late. He wasn't fool enough to trap himself outside the ship with me, and the moment of indecision was enough for the blast door to slam closed.

I pulled the boots on, checked all the remaining seals, then set about carving a large enough hole in the outer door to escape.

Of course, now I was stranded on the outside of a doomed Republic ship, with less than twenty minutes worth of air and no way to re-enter the planet's atmosphere.

"Fact: I need a ship, mine is unavailable. The Sith shuttle is the only remaining option."

I reached farther with the Force, checked the exact location of the shuttle. It was clinging to the bottom of the ship, around the corner from where I stood. I activated the boots, set off at as close to a jog as I could manage in the clumsy outfit. Bandon would sense my movement, guess my route within seconds. I had to be fast.

Shone was nearest, running back through the inner corridors that matched my movements on the hull. He had a longer route to traverse, but was moving far quicker than I. Of the three, he'd always been strongest at sensing intention.

I tried to move faster, but there was no way. I still hadn't figured out a way to re-enter the ship from the outside without setting off alarms and being sealed off. Any exterior breach would be sealed, and while that was a fine strategy to get oneself _outside_ a ship, it did tend to cause problems when trying to _enter_.

There would be access ports near maintenance. But that was the other side of the ship, I didn't have time, Shone would reach the shuttle long before I could—

I activated my lightsaber, slashed a long gash in the ship's hull, continued burning through as the blast wall sealed behind. If I could get key sections of corridor blocked off, that would delay them. Not long, they had lightsabers too, but it would help even the odds.

I pressed on until I felt air flowing out around my blade, then deactivated it and hurried across the bottom of the ship's hull. I focused the Force as I moved, tried to sense the layout of the ship in its entirety. A difficult task but not insurmountable.

Four ways to reach the shuttle from the cargo bay. Shone was blocked at one, I had seven minutes or so before he could get through my barrier. Bandon was coming a different way, Devre behind him. The soldiers I cared nothing for, and I knew Bandon wouldn't either.

I hurried along roughly the same route Shone had been taking, but along the outside of the ship I wouldn't have blast doors trying to seal me in each time I broke through as he would be dealing with. I could make it this time. I could.

* * *

 _Author's Notes : _

_June 5, 2018 -_ _Slight edit to adjust a few sentences and fix typos._


	4. Rejected

The Sith shuttle was docked at the secondary maintenance hatch on the level just below command. I carved through the outside hull, slowly too slowly. It was easy to make a hole, harder to make one large enough to fit through. Shone was nearing, Bandon moved more quickly though farther away. I had to do this, and quickly.

The Force still resisted my pull. I couldn't draw on it as I once had, couldn't move faster than nature intended. I strained against those restraints, struggled to seize Force and press it into shape.

It still didn't respond, however desperate my plight. Cursing under my breath, I finally broke a jagged hole large enough to allow myself in. The inner door seal, no more than a foot farther in, wasted even more time. Shone was only two chambers away, but I had reached the shuttle's connecting port.

Fact: The inner seal is closed to protect the shuttle's atmosphere. If I melt through, it'll render the shuttle useless to me. I need the access codes to activate the airlock.

I stood beside the control panel, closed my eyes, brought my memory into focus. I had been on the ship during the shuttle's landing. Bandon had to open the airlock to get out. The ripples in Force were faint, I hadn't been focusing on someplace this far away.

My hand hovered over the number pad.

Fact: Shone is cutting through the last door _right now_. I don't have time for this.

Remember. _Remember_.

 _Malak strode down the walkway, gesturing animatedly as he talked. Eagerness rippled off him in warm waves._

I glared at the control panel. _Wrong memory. Focus._

Bandon's motions. Opening code. _Hand moving fast, long-practiced habit. 7-4-7-1-8-0._

I typed it in. The shuttle's outer seal closed, the inner seal hissing as the airlock was pressurized. Stripping off the cumbersome space suit gloves, I hurried to the controls.

The shuttle console was locked, of course, and no one had used an access code within my memory and spacial range. I tried the opening code from the door, but it was incorrect. Of course.

Fact: Shone and Bandon will be here momentarily. I have no Force abilities to protect myself, and in a fight I would be overwhelmed far too quickly.

Fact: I cannot seize control of this shuttle without information I have no way of getting.

I could conceivably hack the console, if I had security spikes and time and the skill for it, but I had exactly zero of the three.

The most important thing to acquire was more time. I returned to the docking tube, where the near presence of Shone seemed to weigh on me. Ignoring the creeping dread, I flipped the emergency disconnect bar. That would at least let the shuttle drift away from the _Endar Spire_.

A brilliant red beam of light ignited beside me with a familiar hiss-snap. I flicked my own lightsaber on in the same instant, rippling Force warning me as Shone struck. Our blades met in a sizzling tangle.

"Shone, please listen to me," I said without much conviction. "I'm really not a Jedi, I'm trying to get back to Malak. You know me."

"You must be a weak Jedi indeed to attempt such a transparent ploy," Shone snarled, pressing forward, his blade trying to overbear my own. I was shorter, and he quite tall, the strategy would normally prove quite effective.

"I know my Force signature has changed, the Jedi did something to me when they captured me. How _did_ they capture me?"

"You speak like a babbling idiot," Shone hissed. He continued to press me back, content to rely on his sheer weight and power. The extended saberlock allowed me time to talk, to think, so I made no move to break it.

"Malak always called you 'Shiny' when you were training with us the first months," I said, casting about for any shared experiences I could draw upon to convince him. "Until you started calling him 'Mally'."

"Anyone could tell you that," Shone replied, entirely unconvinced. "The story has been around the ranks often enough, and you Jedi certainly take enough _prisoners_."

Contempt rolled off him, and he surged forward.

"I always told you that you were predictable," I hissed back, rolling aside just as he tried to overpower me. "Allowing the enemy too much time to think has always been your weakness."

Shone snarled, stumbled forward as I rolled beneath his attack, disengaging and coming up behind him. He whirled, met my saber with his own. The next minute gave us no time to converse or think, flashing blades, red on red, light flaring as the two sabers met.

I reached for the Force, tried desperately to draw it in to me. Shone was aggressive and overly confident in his physical prowess, but sooner or later he _would_ remember his Force abilities. I couldn't allow him any advantage.

Bandon was near, but the ships had drifted far enough apart he was of little concern. The passageways on the _Endar Spire_ leading to the shuttle dock had all been vacated of air through my efforts and Shone's attempts to force his way to me.

I caught his blade, forced it up just a little, held the lock. It was a clear invitation for him to try pushing me over again. Our eyes met.

"Fact: I am _Revan_ ," I said. "Stop this foolishness and escort me to Malak."

Doubt flickered in Shone's eyes. He frowned.

"Why did you say that?" he asked quietly. "'Fact'."

I almost laughed in relief. "I worried you wouldn't remember."

His face remained fixed in a frown, but he didn't seek to break our saberlock or overpower me.

"Revan always was. . . eccentric. His peculiarities were not all aware to everyone, but those of us who knew him could attest to a great number of his odd habits."

"So you believe me?"

"I believe that you, the Jedi Order, have obtained more information than we previously expected. And clearly this is a poor attempt at reversing the damage you did by killing Revan." He shook his head. "Admirable, well-researched, but idiotic and pointless. Malak would no more be fooled than I. You are not Revan, and however many of his quirks you may have learned about in your interrogations of our fellows, no half-trained Jedi will be able to impersonate a Sith Lord."

"I'm not an impostor," I insisted, frustrated. "There is no peace, there is passion. There is no knowledge, there is seeking. There is no serenity, there is strength. There is no harmony, there is power. There is no death, there is victory. The Force will serve me."

Shone's eyes narrowed even more. "Only a handful of us know that version of the codes," he said quietly. "And none have been taken. There were rumors. . . did you actually manage to _interrogate_ Revan before you killed him? Did you somehow steal his secrets for yourselves?"

"I _am_ Revan!" I shouted. "No deception, only— gah."

 _"Where are you? I sense you are in danger."_ The female voice in my mind was neither expected nor welcome.

"Jedi fool, stay out of my head!" I shouted, pushing Shone's saber away from me with a burst of angry strength. I ducked away and ran to the controls. "SHONE ASVAR TEMER GET THIS UNLOCKED NOW!"

"You truly believe your own cover story," Shone said, chuckling. "How amusing. I'm sure Malak would enjoy keeping you for sport on particularly hard days."

A tremor ran through my stomach, pure physical fear. I knew Malak's darker side, had seen what he was capable of. If they truly believed that the Jedi had somehow learned everything I knew, that left me no way to prove myself. With a different Force signature and a much diminished set of Force abilities, nothing I could say or do would ever convince Malak that I wasn't just a spy.

Malak was not kind to spies. They rarely died quickly, or pleasantly.

"No," I said quietly. "I will find a way."

"You do a good job getting in character," Shone said. "Surrender, and I will bring you to Malak alive."

I snorted derisively.

Certainty: Malak will never believe me. Without my Force bond, I would only be kept so long as it entertained him to torture me. This helps neither our war effort nor my personal plans.

Shone swung his blade at me, I ducked aside. The plasma beam sliced into the control console. Alarms began blaring.

"I don't want to hurt you, Shone," I said quietly. "Please."

Something impacted the shuttle, sent us both stumbling and flailing. I fell to the floor, my saber carving an incomprehensible squiggle as I tried to catch myself. Thankfully there was a deck below, or the shuttle would have depressurized.

Shone fell against the control panel, glanced at it instinctively. He cursed, turned to glare at me. "Back away, and stand by the other end of the room. Don't make any sudden moves. I have to stabilize this now or the shuttle's going to blow."

I went to the other end of the room and did not make any sudden moves. He would sense my intentions to cooperate. I was suddenly very grateful that it was Shone trapped with me in a doomed shuttle rather than either Bandon or Devre.

The controls came to life, the half of them above the saber slice. Those below remained dark.

Shone cursed again, typing rapidly. "Nothing for it now," he muttered. "This is going to be a rough landing."

The shuttle's engines kicked into power, pushing us away from the _Endar Spire_. The larger ship hung dead in space, clearly not going anywhere ever again. The planet below us spread out, a vast grey-blue city-world.

The shuttle squealed in protest as we entered the atmosphere, fire flaring against the shields. I could feel heat pressing in on us. The shields must have been weakened or partially deactivated.

Then we cut through the clouds, clipped a skyscraper despite Shone's best efforts to steer, and careened straight into the side of another building. Darkness swept across the control panel and interior lights as the shuttle's power flickered and died.


	5. Forsaken

The impact hurled us forward. Shone smashed into the forward window and lay limp while I went sprawling across the floor.

The shields flickered and died, the shuttle groaned in protest. Its nose was buried in someone's office, the building creaking unsteadily. If we'd been going any faster, the whole thing probably would have collapsed. As it was, Tarisian architecture was at least slightly more stable than a single crashing Sith shuttle could defeat.

I stood unsteadily, crossed to where Shone lay. He was alive, would probably recover without much risk of complications. I took the lightsaber from his unmoving hand, feeling better balanced with the pair, then set to carving a hole through the viewport glass. The tower we'd crashed through gave every appearance of being an apartment complex. We were wedged partway between floors, so I had to stand and climb over the control panel to reach the higher of the two floors.

The screams and sounds of panic were more distant now, as word spread and the inhabitants evacuated. I crawled out onto the floor, got unsteadily to my feet. I wanted to stop, spend a few minutes pacing and thinking, but Shone could awaken at any moment and I didn't want to be anywhere near him. My Force sense range was among the largest in my Sith empire, if I got far enough away that I couldn't sense _him_ , I could be assured that he would be unable to sense me either.

I had to say this much for Shone, he had saved our shuttle from near-certain doom. If we'd been coming in any faster, or at a different angle, we'd probably both be dead and the shuttle a flaming ball of scrap.

Priorities: Get to a safe distance. Find somewhere to lay low. Stop and recalculate objectives.

I could do that.

I followed the panicking Tarisians down overcrowded elevators, wishing I had something to wear other than this incredibly conspicuous standard-issue Republic armor. I did _not_ blend in at all. People were staring. I had to find something else to wear.

Laying low would be no use at all if anyone you met on the street could point directly to where the crazy Jedi guy had been running.

I pressed the button for the next level down, though everyone stared at me like I was crazy. They wanted to go directly to the next street level, this was an evacuation. Not the time to be heading to your apartment.

But I wore a Republic uniform and had a pair of lightsabers. They didn't protest, and they didn't try to stop me.

I hurried halfway around the circuit, then picked a door at random and sliced it open. It was an apartment, a basic small-family affair with bedrooms off the main area. Not high class, but well above low-class. The current style on Taris seemed to be thigh-length tunics with pants and tall boots. The man whose apartment I'd broken into was obviously a bit taller than I, but I figured ill-fitting pants and slightly too large boots wouldn't be anywhere close to as conspicuous as this Republic thing.

The lightsabers were another matter. Tarisian belted tunics didn't leave much space for concealment, unlike a flowing Sith robe, and they'd be distinct enough that anyone seeing me would notice.

I could still sense Shone, which meant he might still be able to sense me. I didn't have _time_. He could wake any moment, and then the pursuit would know at least which direction I'd fled in.

 _"Melar, finally, you've arrived. Come, meet me in the Lower City cantina."_

The Jedi girl, stuffing her thoughts into my mind again. I growled, cut off the mental connection without replying. Only then did I consider that she'd obviously sensed my presence, and I _couldn't_ detect her. She must have a ridiculously strong Force sense. Where was she? I couldn't avoid her if I didn't know how long her reach was.

Fact: Shone is a bigger threat at the moment. The Jedi probably believe my hyperspace scout identity will hold.

I dressed quickly, shoved the Republic uniform down the trash disposal. The colours were rich and dark, deep brown boots, black pants, red tunic. The boots were a bit fancier, probably a formal pair since they weren't being worn at the time. I grabbed a woman's purse from the other side of the closet, stuffed my lightsabers inside. It would be conspicuous, but not nearly as conspicuous as running around with the weapons in plain sight.

I tied the purse around my waist, then hurried out of the room and back to the elevator. It was a long wait, the evacuation having moved down several more floors in the time I was occupied. Shone was conscious again by the time I finally stepped into the elevator. I only managed to make it five floors lower before it stopped to admit _more_ fleeing evacuees.

What, were they emptying the whole tower? Where would all the people even _go_?

Evaluation: Not my problem.

I was starting to lose the clarity of my sense of Shone. I smirked only slightly, faintly sensing his irritation at being unable to get an elevator down. It would have been more humorous if I hadn't been in the same predicament.

I reached the street level at last, followed the fleeing Tarisians. Shone flickered in my Force sense behind me, coming closer down the elevator. But I was faster, for the moment at least. If he was at the extreme limit of my sense then I should be safely outside of his.

I hurried along the bright sunlit street and past parked speeders, wishing the Force would respond to my commands instead of just passively feeding me information. I could have spark-started one and been at a distinct speed advantage. As it was, I had only until Shone escaped the elevators and cramped quarters before he started using the Force to aid him in closing the distance between us.

Goal: Get farther down. Find an elevator as soon as possible.

I instinctively tried drawing on the Force to hurry myself along, but whatever the Jedi had done left me without that part of the connection. It was maddening, feeling the flow of life around me but unable to control it.

A good portion of the evacuees stopped and were staring back at their tower, pointing and babbling among themselves. I glanced back, and it certainly did make a unique picture. A Sith shuttle was just buried nose-first in the side of the building. Dust and smoke drifted about it lazily, but not as much as a more serious crash would have caused.

Apart from the rooms directly impacted, the rest of the tower should be able to resume normal activities within a few hours.

I turned my attention back to the street. Towers rose around, rounded tops high and low. I couldn't see the pattern by which the city was laid out, but it was probably a complicated system.

A low towertop loomed ahead of me on the right, a single story above the street. I hurried toward it, looked around for the elevator. There was one that only went up, not what I wanted. I hurried around the ring, but there seemed not to be any other way down.

I cut open the 'employees only' door to a cleaning closet, hoping it was a service elevator. I ran out again. Shone had reached the street level now. I had no time.

I looked over the edge, longingly. If I still could control the Force, I'd have leapt over it long ago. Guided my fall to somewhere far far below.

"Excuse me, how do I get lower down?" I asked a woman as she walked past.

"Elevator to the lower city is two streets over, west a ways. Big warning sign. The swoop gangs are particularly nasty this time of year, be careful young man."

"Thanks," I said, and hurried in the direction she indicated. Swoop gangs wouldn't be a problem for me - no mundane attack would be. I could still _feel_ the warnings the Force gave, still see the shifting flow above reality that action created. And if I strained hard enough even see the ripples that echoed back from the future.

Against Jedi or my Sith it wouldn't be enough. Against normal people it would make me invincible.

The elevator was less shiny and well-upkept than those in the apartment building, but it moved quite quickly and smoothly.

The moment the doors opened, I felt like I'd moved to a different planet entirely. No more bright sunlit walkways, no more soaring towers glowing in afternoon light. The walls and floors were closer, tighter. The windows looked out on the perpetual twilight of areas that would only have sunlight at highest noon for a few minutes. The towers were closer together here, connected with covered tunnels instead of open walkways. Windows looked out on either side, as though optimistically grasping for what little natural light was available.

The walkway lights glowed dimly, but they didn't flicker and seemed stable and steady. It wasn't a nice neighborhood, for sure, but it also wasn't a dump. The people living here had their own type of pride, I could tell by the way the streets were upkept. Not to upper-city standards, but despite the stains on the walls and floors there weren't piles of garbage everywhere.

I crossed the street and entered the first elevator I found. It went down a single story, then stopped in an apartment ring. The design mirrored that upcity, but with closer divisions. Here the upkeep took a noticeable dive. Whoever maintained the streets either didn't care about or wasn't permitted access to this tower ring.

Good enough.

I began pacing around the ring, allowed my thoughts to coalesce and my concentration to drift from the present to the future.

Fact: Malak won't believe me unless I can recover my Force signature or find something equally drastic to shift who I appear to be. Original plan for returning directly to him must be set aside as unsafe.

The easiest way to convince him would be to re-establish my bond. But the Jedi girl hijacked it, and I never studied Force bonds. The connection between myself and Malak had been natural, built over decades spent studying together, fighting together, learning together, leading together, conquering together. We had been closer than brothers, by the end, whatever the Jedi thought.

Why would I think about it as the end? I'm still alive, and so is he. We can work this out.

I needed to get her to put it back. But how? She probably didn't even know how it had been done herself. The so-called _Masters_ on Dantooine would have done it themselves. They ever did dabble in things not meant for us to know.

I didn't want to go back there. Even in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant we'd heard rumors about the Dantooine enclave. They were too independent, too unsupervised, and they went too far on a regular basis. They were only given the problem cases, where their unique style of oversight might conceivably be an asset instead of a liability.

Fact: Dantooine is probably the only place in the galaxy with the depth of knowledge about Force bonds that I need.

Scowling at the thought, I added _Reach Dantooine enclave_ as my next priority. Though, while I was at it, perhaps I could bring the Jedi girl along with me. It was entirely possible that I'd need her presence to disconnect the hijacked bond.

I slammed my fist into the nearest wall, smashed it a second time. It wouldn't be any good if I couldn't _control the Force!_ Even if I became the foremost scholar on Force bonds, without the ability to reach into myself, into her, and reset things to the way they should be, it would all be for nothing.

Fact: I need allies. I need my subordinates. I need my _apprentice_.

Hitting the wall with my fist wasn't enough. I braced my fists and forehead against the wall and bellowed in fury and pain. As though the past frantic hours had been a nightmare, one I now woke to find reality. I screamed, raged, swallowed tears.

I was _lost_ , trapped in a reality that I just couldn't bear. No Force. No allies. No friends. Even those I thought should help were suspicious and untrusting. Why didn't Bandon believe me? A simple altered Force signature shouldn't be enough to deceive him. What did he see?

Maybe I should have gone back with them. Even if they believed Malak would only imprison me, once he saw me he'd have recognized my face, my walk, my emotions. Why did I let them scare me away?

I was reacting, not acting. I slammed my fist against the wall again. Could I re-evaluate my goals? No. Malak would recognize me, but he'd also see the changes. He'd see a Revan warped by the Jedi. I had exactly one way to convince him otherwise.

Conclusion: I need to get to Dantooine, find the truth about Force Bonds and how to reassign them, and take the Jedi girl with me to Malak. He would be able to use that knowledge to shift it back, and he could help break down the barriers against direct Force abilities that the Jedi had implanted in me.

I sighed, emotionally drained and physically worn. I slumped down to the ground, sat leaning against the grungy wall and staring out at the twilight towers beyond the window.

 _"I need help,"_ I whispered to Malak, to the Jedi usurper who sat in his place. _"Come find me. I'm in the lower city, some apartment ring. I don't know what to do."_

She answered almost at once. _"Melar, I've been worried you weren't getting my messages. I'll be there. Hold on."_

I nodded bleakly, closed my eyes against tears that didn't come. I was stronger than that.

Even having lost everything, I was stronger than that.

* * *

 _Minor edit 2-7-2018, fixed some typos._


	6. Located

"Melar, are you alright?"

I raised my head slowly, brought my eyes into focus. "Jedi girl," I said blankly. "You—"

I cut myself short. I must be delirious, or half asleep still. Think, Revan. Now was not the time to be betraying everything you know. Deception. Caution. Tell her only what she needs to know.

"You were in my dreams," I said instead. "Who are you?"

"My name is Bastila Shan, of the Jedi Order. Do you remember anything about what happened here today?"

"I was scouting the lanes, new hyperspace lanes are valuable, y'know? If I could find one, my family would never— my. . . family?"

I was speaking from the faintly imprinted identity that had assailed me when I first awakened in the morning, but having largely suppressed the information and completely ignored it past its first attempt to integrate itself I found myself surprised by how much detail it contained.

"It's alright, Melar. You've had a hard day. Can you stand?"

I barely suppressed the urge to glare at her, nodded meekly instead and got unsteadily to my feet.

"What happened?" I asked. "The ship, there were soldiers everywhere."

"Yes," Bastila said. "We were attacked. You have heard of Darth Malak?"

I shrugged. _Melar_ certainly didn't get out much, being largely a loner despite the odd insistence on having a family. What sort of identity was that? A loner hyperspace scout, who never returned home and thought nothing about the fact that his job had a high mortality rate? Were the Jedi insane, or did they truly not understand people at all? Who would consider that a cohesive identity? Did they just throw in the 'family' as a way to make him seem sympathetic or something without taking care to work it into the overall fabric of their story?

I've had cover identities that were more cohesive. I've had one-use _throwaway_ cover identities that were more cohesive.

Jedi are idiots. And they actually wondered _why_ Malak and I had chosen to break away at the first chance? It was this kind of staggering incompetence that was rampant throughout their over-indulgent civilization. Who put them in charge, eh?

"Malak and his fleet were waiting for us. It was an ambush. We must have a leak somewhere, we didn't tell anyone where we were going and I don't know how else he could have found us."

I restrained the urge to snort derisively. We'd been planning to take Taris next anyway. It wasn't a terribly important world of its own merit, but it did lie directly along the intersection of two major hyperspace routes. A strategically valuable position to hold.

The fact that Bastila and I showed up here was the larger coincidence. What purpose would the _Jedi_ have in sending a reprogrammed Revan and his Force-bonded Jedi girl to _Taris_? Or did they know that we would be attacking it? Did they send us specifically to entangle us against Malak's fleet as quickly as possible?

I didn't know what had happened, how they had captured me, or what all they've done to me. They might well have gotten strategy information out of me before wiping and rewriting me. But this battle was a _loss_ for the Jedi. That couldn't have been their plan. Could it?

No, they'd have wanted me and Bastila to work together, win the day. Solidify my identity as a Republic hero, working with the Jedi against the Sith. The fact that Malak was furious over my death, the fact that he struck out with his full force instead of the carefully calculated strike I'd advocated, that threw them off.

I nodded, beginning to get a feel for the attitudes that must have been behind the chaos that had become my life.

The Jedi wanted me to be their hero. The Sith thought I was dead.

Perhaps, if I play my role well enough, they could be convinced to return my active connection to the Force? That may have been their plan all along, only suppress it long enough to be sure their reprogramming had taken, then 'discover' that I was 'Force-sensitive' and 'train' me to be a 'Jedi'.

Hah. That would be idiotic beyond even what I'd already seen demonstrated. But very in keeping with the flow of actions that I'd deduced thus far.

"How do you talk in my mind?" I asked. "It scared me."

I had a harder time than I'd anticipated holding my composure, but if there's one thing I can do it's conceal my true thoughts and feelings. Even from Malak.

Even from _Bastila Shan of the Jedi Order_.

Bastila smiled. "I saved your life, once. You probably don't remember, probably never will, but an action like that can create a bond between a Jedi and another person. It's unusually strong in our case, perhaps because you were on the very edge of death for a very long time."

My heart skipped faster. If she wasn't lying, and I suspected she would be a terrible liar between her Jedi morals of 'honesty' and her youth and inexperience, then things were far, far worse than I'd expected. A 'very long time' could have been anywhere from hours to months. How much could the Jedi have gotten from me in that time? _Everything_?

I put my hand to my chest, trying to calm myself, but I was terrified. Yes, I, Darth Revan. Terrified. Did they know about the Star Forge? I had to warn Malak at once.

"Relax, Melar, you're safe now. You're not going to die, the Jedi Masters were able to heal you completely."

Her calm voice did nothing to reassure me. Jedi Masters. Dantooine, no doubt. Only they would be so brazen. Only they would dare tamper with such sacred things as life and Force and bonds and my very connection to life.

"I don't like Jedi," I said weakly. "Never trust someone who can make you change your mind with a wave of their hands."

'Melar' didn't have any such inhibitions. Bastila probably knew that, judging by the ill-concealed confusion on her face. But she couldn't let on that she knew everything about me, or it would make 'Melar' suspicious. And if he'd already expressed distrust of Jedi, then she'd have to be more circumspect about whatever she does next.

I didn't smirk, though I dearly wanted to. I could play this game for as long as it took. She wouldn't get a single thing out of me. None of the Jedi would. Ever again.

"It's alright, Melar," she said. "I promise, I won't use the Force on your mind."

I gave an involuntary snort at that, barely suppressed my inclination to burst into full roaring laughter.

She took a breath, as though calming herself. "Are you injured, Melar?"

Did she have to say my 'name' _every_ time she spoke? Was this supposed to be subconscious reinforcement of my fake identity? Or was she really as much of an irritation as she seemed?

"I don't know, probably. The ship was crashing, and there were Jedi trying to kill me, and I only barely escaped on a shuttle, and I crashed. . ." I rambled, tilting my head as though trying to remember. I took advantage of the opportunity to critically assess my body. I'd been ignoring a number of pains during my escape to the lower city, none life-threatening.

"The people trying to kill you weren't Jedi," the Jedi girl said. "They were Sith, enemies of the Republic."

I shrugged. "Looked like Jedi to me. Waving laser swords around like anything. Slicing up walls and doors." I'd survive, but without the ability to draw on the Force to strengthen myself it would be an uncomfortable few weeks.

"Were the lightsabers _red_?" she asked, patiently, as though to a young child.

I resisted the urge to laugh again, put on a confused expression. "I suppose. Does that matter?"

"Red crystals are unnatural, created when a Dark Force user, like a _Sith_ , forces their crystal into a bond without consent and mutual agreement."

Actually, red crystals were created by a Kyber becoming bound specifically with the Dark Side of the Force, either on its own or through coercion. You could bond a crystal of any colour to _yourself_ , the crystal's colour really only denoted the _ratio_ of Dark-to-Light Force power within the crystal itself.

The Jedi Guardians were the only group to use pure blue - purely Light - crystals. The Consulars held a tint of Dark Side power in their green blades, while Sentinels held a considerable amount of Dark in their yellow crystals. And only a thin amount of Light, in fact, which could explain why such a large contingent of Sentinels had joined Malak and myself.

And as far as I could tell, having a 'Dark' or 'Light' crystal meant in practice absolutely nothing. The more closely the lightsaber matched your personal alignment, the more comfortable you felt with it, but it didn't make it easier to use or more powerful.

My own alignment was a deep purple - heavy red, heavy blue. Nothing soft or shallow about it. However, these solely-Dark-crystal lightsabers I'd taken from Shone and Devre would still work perfectly fine for me. I was around enough Dark-only Sith on a regular basis that I was more than used to Dark Side power. It felt almost as comfortable as my own sabers would have.

I wouldn't try to change my sabers' crystals, even if they were pure Jedi blades, or worse, _weak_ Jedi blades. Trying to rebond a crystal rarely worked and just isn't worth the effort. It often led to them cracking and becoming unstable, or losing their Force-sensitivity almost entirely. But a dead Kyber still powered a lightsaber, as those 'grey' Jedi who went running around with silver sabers proved.

The Jedi just ignored the fact that, like crystals, Force-users could be in contact with both sides of the Force. It wasn't a Light _or_ Dark dichotomy, being strong in one didn't in any way preclude mastery of the other.

Being 'grey' just meant you were weak in both. Being purple meant you were _strong_ in both. Like me.

"You seem skeptical," the Jedi said.

"Oh, do I?" I asked. "I was just thinking about my. . . hyperspace. . . scouting. . .tricks. Some people get things so wrong."

"You can talk to me, about anything," she said softly. "If you want to talk about hyperspace scouting, I'll listen. I can't guarantee I'll understand it, but I'll listen."

I snorted. This layer of false memory wasn't detailed enough for that conversation to go anyplace. If Jedi weren't such _idiots_ she'd have known better than to _encourage_ me toward a topic that would only lead to confusion.

I had to get off this planet.

Well, that was one place to start.

"I have to get off this planet," I said. "I don't like it. Those crazy Jedi are going to keep trying to kill me, I just know it."

"They're Sith, not Jedi," she insisted gently. "I'm a Jedi, we help people."

"Like you helped Dxun?" I demanded, without thinking. Onderon's moon had been one of the first places to fall to the Mandalorian invasion, and one of the last to be reclaimed. By me, I might point out. Not the Jedi. Not the Republic. _Me_. Revan and Malak and our 'rogue' Jedi, and the loyal soldiers who followed us.

"That was years ago," the Jedi replied.

"Eh," I said, returning to my affected apathy. "I don't keep up with galactic news much out on the fringes. You took it back, then?"

"Yes," she said, looking uncomfortable.

"So, how do we escape this place?" I asked.

She seemed relieved at the change of subject. "I'll think of something. Right now, we need to get to a safer place. These lower streets are overrun with gangs, and this one you've stumbled into isn't the most friendly. Come with me."

I shrugged and followed. I'd have to be careful with this girl, I kept forgetting that she was bonded to me now. For my assumed identity to hold, she'd need to sense emotions that matched my words and actions. I was fairly nearly an expert at assuming false identities, but they were always a hollow physical facade. Never before had I been forced to assume a persona to such a deep level.

I could only hope the experience wouldn't leave me irreparably changed. There was probably nothing to worry about, but as I followed a Jedi without hesitation or protest, I did. And I knew I'd not be able to stop worrying until I was safely back at my best friend's side.

 _Wait for me_ , I called out to Malak, instinctively, before I could think it through.

The Jedi girl sensed my call, paused in her stride for me to close the few feet of distance. She looked at me oddly, but I ignored her.

Time to become 'Melar Whatsisname' in mind as well as memory. I shuddered, then consciously suppressed my own thoughts and emotions, allowed the imprint to seep through me.

My 'family' needed me to get out of this alive, and preferably with the Republic's promised extravagant payment.


	7. Quarantined

"So, hey, what was your name again?" I asked, trotting after the Jedi. "If we're going to be working together, I figure I should know."

"Bastila Shan," she replied. "And you are Melar Serav, correct?"

I nodded. So my last name was _Serav_. It fit smoothly into my new persona, another piece of the puzzle. Melar Surav. No, Serav. Serav. Remember it. E then A. _Same as Revan_ , part of me whispered, but I pushed it away. Melar. Serav.

"What brings a lovely Jedi like yourself out here to this reputedly-important back end of space?" I asked.

She glanced at me, and I grinned before remembering that I was _supposed_ to be married and with a family. I guess hitting on a Jedi wasn't ever really a _good_ idea. And it might seem out of character, now I thought about it, with my reputed misunderstanding of the difference between Jedi and their Darker counterparts.

Oops. Such are the risks of switching personae too quickly without forethought.

Still. She couldn't call me on it or risk revealing more than the Jedi would want me to know, and thus I had a _perfect_ cover for anything that may seem out of place or just off. I could always just look confused and pretend not to be able to remember what was real.

My grin became more genuine. I could get used to this.

No, focus. Melar. Build that identity, lock anything else away. Single-minded focus.

She wasn't suspicious, just irritated. I hated that I could read her so clearly, hated that she was connected to me, hated that I couldn't reveal that hatred or risk. . . who knew what repercussions at the hands of the Jedi Council.

I had to get to Dantooine, yes, but not as a prisoner. Not as an experiment dragged back for who knew what.

Bastila was beginning to feel uncomfortable, though her face didn't show it, and I realized I'd been staring with an increasingly blank grin at her full-body but suggestively concealing outfit.

"Sorry," I said, turning away. "I shouldn't stare. You're not what I expected from a Jedi."

"We just met," she said, still feeling uncomfortable. I couldn't help wondering if her discomfort was at least partly caused by the fact that she knew full well that I wasn't married and never had been, or if she was just playing it naturally.

 _No, this isn't what Melar would think!_

Analysis: Identity proving more difficult than usual. I assumed personae that weren't myself all the time. Why couldn't I do so now?

Answer: lack of preparation.

Normally I would spend days researching or at least spending idle hours considering the identity I wanted to use. This time, not only had it been thrust upon me unasked-for less than an hour before, but it was accompanied by a live test of fairly staggering proportions.

"You seem unsettled," Bastila said. _Curse_ her Jedi perceptiveness!

"I feel disoriented," I said, sticking as close to truth as could be allowed. After all, for all she knew, _I_ was the ignorant one. "I think I need to rest. The. . . Sith, I barely escaped alive, and now. . . I just don't know what to think about anything."

She nodded, muted empathy radiating through this accursed bond. "I understand."

"And I have to get off this planet," I added.

"I'll find a place where you can rest, and then see about arranging transportation off-world," Bastila said, taking charge. As I'd known she would. Jedi weren't trained to be mute followers. And if I let her lead for a while, it would give me time to integrate Melar as a primary facet of my persona.

Calculation: getting my emotions under control must be a high priority. Since that's what she can sense most clearly, everything else depends on _feeling_ what I should be to accompany the 'thoughts' and actions Melar would have to take.

What do I know about Melar?

Hyperspace scout. Loner, has his own ship. No debt. Has a _family_ somewhere in Mandalore space. Doesn't really like or trust Jedi because of their reluctance to help during the first invasion, before I - before _Revan_ , saved them.

I smirked at the idea of having subconscious loyalties to my own cause. That would be interesting to play out.

I followed Bastila in silence as we walked through the lower streets of Taris. I wasn't paying attention to where we went; I'd thrown in my fate with her, and for better or worse that's where I would stay. For the moment.

Question: What do Bastila and the Jedi want from me? There's no reason for them to go to such lengths if they don't want something pretty drastic.

And, consider as I may, I couldn't reach a satisfactory conclusion. It was unsettling, that inability to see my opponents' moves. So far, with the Republic, I'd been so far ahead of them I could have predicted the new Chancellor's name to within a list of twenty beings a full year before nominations began.

Now, I was helpless. The Force wouldn't listen to my pleas.

And I didn't know _what_ the Jedi wanted from me.

They obviously wanted me separated from Malak, but killing me would do the job just as well as imprinting a _multi-layer false memory identity_ , and without as much effort.

Then again, the Dantooine enclave _may_ have just been doing it for the practice. To see if it could be done, see if it would hold, see how long it lasted.

If that were the case, though, they would have wanted me to _stay_ on Dantooine where they could monitor me.

No, there wasn't any answer I could think of that would explain all the different confusing things about my life now.

Time to stop. Time to really, _actually_ stop. Melar wouldn't worry about that, Melar wouldn't have any reason to think about any of it. And I was Melar now. Or, would be as soon as I could stop and settle my mind.

"Melar," I said aloud. The word tasted unfamiliar, unused. "MELar. MEElar. MelAIR. MelAR."

"What are you doing?" Bastila asked, mild confusion slipping through the bond.

"Trying to remember how to pronounce my name," I said, smirking at her. "I think MELar, don't you?"

"Yes," she said.

 _Melar_. Hyperspace scout.

"So, what's been happening in this little corner of the galaxy?" I asked. "I've been away a while. Is all this sith-jedi stuff normal now?"

"The Dark Lord Malak is trying to complete what his master started, the ruthless conquest of the galaxy by force."

I snorted. "One little Sith lord? Isn't stopping people like that the whole _point_ of your Jedi Order? What about Revan, he saved us last time."

I said it fluidly, instinctively. Following the pattern of Melar's thoughts, and only barely managed not to choke with laughter when I registered what I'd said.

Bastila scowled, not amused. "Revan _was_ Malak's Sith master. He started this whole mess."

"Really?" I asked. "Huh. I guess it's true what they say, scouts may find the first route, but never get the first news. I always thought he was a pretty great guy."

Bastila coughed uncomfortably. "We all believed in him, until he fell to the Dark Side and betrayed everyone."

There was a silence.

"Maybe MelAR," I said at last. "MelAR SERav."

"Sshh!" Bastila suddenly pulled me to the side, Force energy lurching me sideways. She held out a hand, concentrating Force energy into a fuzzy barrier between us and the street. It extended much farther than I'd have expected, filling half the street and much of the corner we stood in.

We were plainly visible, the entirety of Taris's upper streets were well-lit and left nowhere to hide, but I closed my eyes and probed more deeply into her use of the Force and found it to be an extraordinarily skillfully-woven mental web, much like what you create when waving a hand in front of a weak-minded fool and instructing them not to pay you and your strange companions any heed.

But spread across an _entire section of the street._

 _Nice job, Jedi girl. Guess I can't underestimate you, however young and naive you may seem._

Sith patrol soldiers, three of them, crossed the section of street in front of us. They looked in every direction as they moved carefully, searching.

They glanced right past us as though we weren't there, continued by without a moment's hesitation.

Bastila let out a breath.

"So, why are Sith after us?" I asked once they were out of earshot. "I guess I understand you, being a Jedi, but why do they want to kill _me_?"

"You are an important Republic resource," she says evasively.

"Really? Resource, me? Aren't I just another soldier?"

"Not many 'just a soldier' could have escaped as you did. You were personally selected as one of my bodyguards, do you not remember?"

"Nope. So I'm supposed to be protecting you, and the Sith want to kill me so they can kill you?"

She nodded.

"I certainly hope I'm getting some serious credits for this job," I muttered. "So, where are we supposed to be going now?"

"Dantooine," she said after only a brief hesitation. "The Endar Spire's mission is over, one way or another. We'll return to the Jedi Council and see what they require us to do next."

Dantooine. The seat of strength for the most creative and dangerous group of Jedi Masters.

And the one place I had to go anyway.

"The Sith will have control of the planet, by now. How are we going to escape?" I asked.

"That is something we shall discover," Bastila replied, hurrying us toward an elevator. "I have some contacts here who are allied with the Republic. We should see if they can offer assistance."

"Listen," I told her, scooting around so I was blocking her way. "I'm a hyperspace scout, not a soldier. If I'm supposed to be protecting you, it isn't in combat. And I think we should lay low, avoid anyplace they'd expect us to go, and get as far away from these patrols as possible."

"I can deal with the patrols," she said confidently. "They'll never even see us."

That may be the case, but we wouldn't outsmart any proper Sith with mind tricks. And I was quite sure that there would be proper Sith coming after us.

I cast about for a way to say that without sounding foolish, predicting things I had no way of knowing for certain.

"Besides," she continued, "my contacts are in deep cover in the far lower city, halfway across the world. We'll be far, far away from the site of our crash by the time the Sith realize we've escaped their net."

"Can't argue with that plan," I said, nodding. "Lead on."


	8. Recruited

Bastila knew her way around Taris. We spent a good eight hours traveling under various pretenses in various conveyances - sometimes walking, sometimes riding with others heading the same direction. We never stayed with anyone for long enough for our remaining to be noted; Bastila convinced them to remain silent and cooperative with the Force. And we switched between vehicles enough once away from the immediate quarantined zone that anyone tracking us would have a hard time of it.

Her contacts were, as she'd claimed, far away from the crash sites and the most major Sith presence. Malak had a firm grip of Taris at a planetary level - no traffic leaving or incoming - but on a more close-down level he only controlled a few areas. Most notably those around the crashed escape pods, and the center of government such as it was.

I would have been able to slip away easily enough even without Bastila to help. Having a Jedi along would make things quicker, but Melar Serav was never a particularly law-abiding character despite his family. He knew how to bribe his way past most officials, and slice his way past the rest.

I didn't have any of the requisite experience, but the knowledge was clear enough. I wondered if it would be useful at all, if the imprinted identity would have real-world impact, or just make me think I could do things I really never could.

"Can you tell me anything about your family?" Bastila asked as we walked away from our latest involuntary driver.

"My wife's name is Kara, we met on Manaan." The ocean world, beautiful. Most only saw it for its military value; the kolto it exported as the best healing agent known in the galaxy. But I'd explored its ocean depths, seen creatures no one else knew of, visited places untouched by sentient land-dweller before myself.

"And?"

"I loved that ocean," I said absently. "Its calm, its peace. Its fury and power." A world in perfect balance, at one with itself. The Selkath shepherded it well, caring for it and being provided for in turn.

"Do you have children?"

"Devin, age nine. Sandri, age twelve. I haven't seen them in four years." Images of the children flickered across my mind, vague images, built mostly from imagination, but it was enough to make me feel melancholy. Were these children real? Did I have an obligation to them, as someone claiming to be their father? Or was there another Melar somewhere who actually _did_ care for them?

Or were they completely fictitious from the start? Probably so. Who would name a girl Sandri Serav?

Bastila looked at me, eyes narrowed slightly. "You miss them?"

"My heart is incomplete without them, but I've been a loner too long to settle down in truth. They'll survive until we happen upon each other again."

"How would you 'happen upon' your family?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious. Or confused, perhaps.

"They fly where they wish, of course," I replied. "It would be selfish, if I demanded they stay in one place while I go about freely. I love them too much to tie them down. I know I would hate being trapped in one place, one life, one situation."

Interesting, how much it felt like truth.

 _Calculation: the imposed persona is strong enough to be dangerous if allowed full control. At least partial awareness must be maintained at all times, or I may forget who I am completely._

Which would make this a dangerous line to dance. Not letting on to the Jedi what I knew, but also not allowing the lie to become too strong. Play along, but don't be controlled by the deception.

"I'm going to get a bonus for the danger involved, right?" I asked spontaneously, the thought occurring to me as something Melar might say.

"You will be amply repaid for your efforts," Bastila said, the statement strangely non-reassuring.

I nodded anyway. "Good. And if I'm killed in the pursuit of this, I expect you to find my family and reimburse them for my time and life." I made careful eye contact. "Will you promise that, Jedi?"

She hesitated, then nodded. I could only imagine what she's thinking, promising to pay fictional people, but I didn't smile. As humorous as the situation was, I maintained composure.

I'd always been good at maintaining composure.

We continued to weave our way across Taris, her Jedi mind powers coming into play so frequently I wondered where the Jedi came off with their alleged policies of non-intervention and peace. If they were going to casually _mind control_ people, they could at least pretend to care enough to protect the worlds they ruled.

It bothered me, always had. The Sith make no pretense of 'virtue' or any such nonsense. They took what they wanted - _we_ took what we wanted - and made no excuses for any of it. Because we believed we were right - _knew_ we were right - and with that certainty there's no need to pretend. No need to make yourselves _seem_ anything but what you are. The Jedi were insecure, weak, and completely pointless as an institution.

I concealed my displeasure, spent the remainder of our trip acting curious or mildly irritated by the inconvenience. Taris wasn't much to look at once you were below the top third of the city; the mid-levels were fairly standard and unimpressive, the lower city downright grungy, and the undercity nigh-uninhabitable.

We finally arrived at her the home of Bastila's contact, a dark woman who called herself Ashen. She was probably a few years older than I, dressed in Tarisian upper-city fashions and wearing fairly extravagant amounts of jewelry.

 _Observation: the woman appears nervous around Bastila, but is careful to conceal it. Because of Malak's search? Possible, but something feels off here._

I closed my eyes and focused my senses outward, reaching through our immediate surroundings and farther, searching into the past and the future as echoed through the Force.

No warning of danger. No hint of discovery. No one anywhere near us with either the knowledge or interest to cause us harm.

"I'm afraid we won't be able to flee the planet for some time," Ashen was saying. "Malak's fleet have surrounded Taris and are prepared to destroy anyone attempting to leave."

"Surely you know a way," Bastila said.

Ashen went very calm very quickly. _She's nervous. Something about this situation._

"I know a smuggler who _claims_ he can outfly anything. However, the Sith departure codes change on a regular basis, and he isn't confident of his ability to crack them. He had a partner to take care of the cryptology, but he was. . . engaged in an unfortunately public scuffle and ended up in hiding with a bounty on his head."

 _Calculation: she knew this would be what Bastila wanted, and considers her contact's ineptitude a personal failing._

"I can crack them," I said. "I've flown through Sith space more than a few times."

"These aren't standard codes we're talking about, these are military security channels," Ashen said.

Bastila frowned. "Melar? You're not a codebreaker. Are you sure?"

I nodded. If there was one thing I was confident of, it would be the security systems I designed and created for the fleet. Multiple levels of cycling codes, randomized and obscured in particular patterns. It would require a genius to break them from outside.

But, having designed them, I only needed a single hint to unravel them completely. And I had that hint. I closed my eyes and thought back; when Shone was crash-landing the shuttle, he'd unlocked the console with the current military code sequence.

I mentally ran the sequence backward through my encryption, which gave me the base key for the week. _Fleet clearance codes, that requires a set sequence that's generated from the date, so. . ._

"Information required: What is today's galactic date?"

Bastila looked startled, but Ashen told me without question.

 _Extrapolate that, then use as every other second/third character in the string. Back to the original key, duplicate it and run the transformation, then insert into the openings. Reorganize sequence by planetary code cycle. Delete every fiftieth character._

"Calculation: complete." I typed out the string onto my datapad, saved it as ship-readable. "Where is our ship?"

Ashen and Bastila were both looking at me, the contact with admiration, Bastila with a faint frown.

"You're completely sure you can get us past the Sith blockade?" Bastila asked. "This won't have any chance of getting us destroyed?"

"Calculation: there is an extremely low chance that my assessment is incorrect. I would be willing to take that chance myself without hesitation."

Bastila wavered for a moment, looking uncertain, but finally nodded. "If Melar is sure he can get us past the Sith blockade, then let's do this. Where can we find your smuggler friend?"

"He only operates through drops at a contact, I've never met him in person." Ashen frowned slightly. "I'd like to request extraction. My record is clean, officially, but if the Sith do any level of digging it wouldn't hold up. I suspect this is the last useful thing I can do for the Republic. Any suspicion I attract now will wind me up in a Sith cell."

Bastila considered only a moment. "Granted," she said. "We're traveling straight to Dantooine."

Exactly where I wanted to go, and with the person I needed to take with me. She'd mentioned it before, but just then it seemed suspiciously convenient. _Reminder: when there's time, re-evaluate plan. Double check for Jedi influence._

I didn't have time just then. Closing my eyes while pacing and muttering would be construed as strange behavior. And I didn't have a mask to conceal my face and muffle my voice this time.

Ashen and Bastila continued discussing details, but I only paid them half a mind. My primary attention was directed outwards, surveying the surrounding city for anything that might prove useful.

Hundreds of thousands of citizens scurried about, their lives shimmering unsteadily in my wavering focus. It was harder to 'see' through the Force while also maintaining attention on physical reality, but I didn't want Bastila to suspect the full extent of my Force abilities. Such as they were.

I still hadn't been able to create so much as the faintest ripple in the Force, though I could still read it as strongly as ever.

The Sith presence in this area of the city was minimal. We were far enough away from the crash sites that they didn't consider it high priority to search or control these areas. At least not yet.

"Come on, Melar," Bastila said, standing. "Ashen will make contact with her friend, for now it's time we got some rest."

"Yes," I said, though I had the distinct impression that rest wasn't what Bastila had in mind.

* * *

 _Author's Note: I was scheduled to update Revans Reborn today, but due to a mental mixup I firmly believed I was supposed to update Double Blind so this is what I wrote for. I've switched the dates on my schedule, and will probably keep them this way until I confuse myself again. (That means that, for the present, Double Blind updates are scheduled for the 5th of each month, with the caveat that I'm setting a strenuous update schedule between all my projects and this is subject to change at any time.)_


	9. Interrogated

We left Ashen's home, traveled down several levels to the midring between the 'upper' and 'lower' cities. Bastila moved with confidence, following directions Ashen had given her to a small apartment complex whose owner dealt in unverified credits and didn't require identification.

"You should be the one to make the reservations," Bastila said. "I'm well known and wanted, but even if they captured the crew manifests from the _Endar Spire_ the name Melar Serav wouldn't be heavily circulated. As far as they would guess, you're just a low-level soldier."

I nodded and followed her instructions, arranging for a short-time lease of a two-room compact apartment. He accepted the credits without question, and handed us a digital room keycard.

"You get the additional twenty credit deposit back when you return the key," he said. "You lose it, I keep the deposit."

"Understood."

Bastila and I spent nearly a half hour scouring the place for surveillance devices, but apart from one ill-concealed button camera on a vent there seemed to be no serious attempt at monitoring the events taking place within the room.

Bastila disabled the device carefully before turning to me.

"Melar. We need to talk."

"Yes?"

"You were never trained as a code-breaker."

"Perhaps my resume wasn't completely thorough," I said, shrugging. "I am confident in my result."

Bastila began pacing. "You were _never_ trained as a code-breaker," she repeated. "I don't understand this. First you were in my mind, now this. Something is—"

"Very wrong?" I finished.

She whirled to face me, but paused to take a deep breath and raised her chin before speaking. "Yes. What happened to you on the _Endar Spire_? How did you come to escape the Sith? How did you call to me for assistance? I know we are connected, but. . . even the strongest Force bonds only rarely allow clear communication. Whatever happened is exceptional. Unforeseen."

I shrugged. "I found a space suit in one of the storage crates and stole the Sith shuttle to reach the surface. Though it did crash, unfortunately." I paused. "Ah, I did see the shuttle's operating code. That was an essential piece in the equation that allowed me to correctly calculate the departure key."

Bastila shook her head. "You're not a genius, we deliberately— we didn't hire anyone for such a low position who could have been cracking Sith codes with that kind of speed."

"Perhaps my resume wasn't completely—"

"Melar, stop. Your resume was a sham. We both know exactly what you're capable of. If you've begun learning new abilities already. . . Well, the Masters will know what to do."

"I don't like the idea of Jedi messing with my mind," I said. I'd completely lost track of what my persona was supposed to act like, the past day wasn't making it easy to pretend with any cohesion. Thankfully, she seemed flustered enough that I doubted it would matter.

"Another unplanned development," Bastila muttered. "Where did this fear of Jedi come from? The Sith attack?"

"Stories get passed around," I said vaguely. "In deep space—"

"Melar," Bastila said firmly, staring at me. " _Stop._ I'm trying to think. Making things up won't help either of us."

Had she realized the truth? No, she was probably just concerned that their false identity had so many cracks in it. Honestly, though, if the Jedi didn't expect me to fill in the spaces creatively, why had they left so many gaps?

Even with the fragmented remains of my own life filling in some, there were so many empty places left. I feared my strategic genius would never be the same, even if I remained above-average.

"I don't understand." I feigned confusion, and did so quite convincingly.

She sighed. "Of course you don't. This was supposed to be a simple test of your capabilities, you understand. We never meant for you to be in direct conflict so soon. You were just cleared for duty, there ought to have been plenty of time for you to adjust gradually."

Putting a hand to her head, she sat down on the bed. "I can tell you're not tired yet, but I most certainly am. Keep watch. If you need to rest, wake me and we can trade places."

I walked to the outer room, checked the lock, and attuned my Force sense to keep watch on the hall outside and anyone entering the building within seven floors of us for intent dangerous to us. That done, I could devote the remainder of my attention to carefully re-evaluating everything that had happened, everything I had done, and what I ought to do moving forward.

* * *

I closed my eyes, pacing out the room before settling on a pattern that looped around the table and chairs, past the outer door, and back again. Then I began to walk. I mentally gathered all the events of the day, trying to make sense of my situation.

Back to the start. _I awoke drifting in darkness, locked inside myself away from any contact with my body._ That such a state was accompanied by near-crippling memory loss leaves its source and reason unclear. _I emotionally believed myself to have been defeated_ \- and still did. That fact, was-defeated-by-Jedi, remained a key point despite my fragmented identity.

Malak's betrayal was hazier, a general sense that he had attacked my ship, but without any accompanying true memory or emotion, which was part of why I was so sure that part was false. If someone I'd worked with so long and so closely had truly turned on me, I'd have had a much stronger emotion associated with it than mild confusion.

I strained after any further details, but the attempts only found neatly ordered memories of Melar Serav, the scout-turned-soldier. As incomplete as the false memories were, they provided a sufficient framework upon which to build a future if I hadn't retained my own identity. Without my own additions and alterations, it was very possible that Melar Serav would have become exactly what he was intended to be.

Neither Melar nor Revan had ever been known for codebreaking, so Bastila's confusion was unsurprising.

I caught my thoughts drifting along tangents a bit too far from the intended line, focused them back onto the day's events.

 _I tried to contact Malak, but found Bastila there instead._ I'd flailed about in a foolish uncertainty, but at the time my mind was trying to resolve the conflicts between the programmed identity and my protected true self reasserting primary control.

Thinking back, that was where I lost grasp on events. Everything from there through the present was essentially reactive. I tried with varying successes to utilize the Melar Serav identity, but with no cohesion. A different facet each time, built on the spot, rather than a unified confident act based on pre-planned contingencies.

No wonder Bastila was so confused by me.

 _When did I start thinking of her by name?_

No, unimportant. I had hours while she slept, but I needed to prioritize the analysis of events and my plans for the future.

 _Malak was inaccessible, I was alone on a Republic ship. I initially intended to approach Devre for escort back to Malak, but abruptly changed my mind when offered the reality. Why?_

I thought about the problems of rejoining Malak, thought about his disbelief at my appearance, thought about the difficulty in convincing him that my Force signature had changed. None of it was compelling. (Had my Force identity even changed? Probably, since Shone, Devre, and Bandon all neglected to recognize me.) But Malak and I _knew_ each other. There was no reason to believe that _anything_ would prevent him from recognizing and welcoming me back.

Analysis: reasoning compromised. I needed to reanalyze everything I acted on out of instinct, based on the assumption that my reactions were unreliable.

The idea of being captured by Malak terrified me. On a visceral level, just imagining being captured by Malak made me feel almost faint. _Evade, escape, avoid at all costs!_

I pulled myself deeper within my mind, sectioning off the instinct for fear. I surrounded it, mentally examining it from every angle. It was almost the key point upon which the Melar Serav identity was based. Avoid capture by the Sith at any cost. Captivity is unthikable. Death is preferable.

Now that was surely wrong. I will admit to being occasionally obsessed with certain topics. My mind is my most sacred posession, and I would protect it even with my life. But Malak didn't make a habit of tampering with prisoners' minds. He had plenty of Dark abilities to force cooperation, and mind intrusion beyond the barest brush of surface intent had a tendencey to cause irreversable problems when handled poorly.

 _Like what they ended up doing to me._ My fractured, mis-matched identities were clearly the result of the Dantooine Council trying too hard to extract information from Revan. They tried to fill in the spaces, fix their mistake, probably in the hopes that more memories would surface and be made available to them for their scheming.

Well. I had my own plans now, and they hadn't quite succeeded.

I cordoned off the fear, locked it into its own section forever, ordered it to never dare impose itself into my conscious thoughts ever again. It complied, afraid of the consequences of crossing Revan.

Realization: My mind had become _ridiculous_. Whatever the Jedi had done was far too bizarre for me to understand. But I could exploit it.

Now I had the time, I carefully constructed a divide within myself, splitting the fictional identity of Melar Serav into his own section, leaving only enough of myself to prevent it from taking over completely. Then I diverted everything I remembered of being Revan into its own section, adding a few minor upgrades from Melar's mind. Like the hallmarks of a dangerous or safe hyperspace hop when made blind, or how to assemble and disassemble certain republic weaponry that had no analogous match in Sith fleets.

I crafted a gateway between them, vast and open, so that most of the time I'd have access to both. But, if necessary, I could slam that gateway closed, leaving either Melar or Revan in much stronger control than the other.

It was probably an extraneous precaution, but I couldn't afford to underestimate the Dantooine masters. Since they were the very ones responsible for my condition, they would be the most likely to spot discrepancies. I would have to be perfect.

I continued walking and re-evaluating, completely lost track of time as I carefully filed and reordered my memories from the clearest to the faintest. It was a time-consuming effort, but somewhat easier than it had been in the past. The concentration required seemed much reduced.

Assumption: Whatever the Jedi did, it left my mind in a natural state of reorganization. Since it has no strong ties to its original orientation any longer, the connections can be replaced wherever I please.

Worrying, since there was no way of knowing how much they deleted. But it was convenient.

* * *

 _Author's Note : _

_Happy Star Wars Day everyone! May the Force be with you~_


	10. Departed

I had moved to categorizing faint fragments of partial memory when Bastila's holocom went off. I stopped pacing and muttering at once, fully aware how suspicious that could appear. _What would Melar do?_

I didn't have any entertainment programs on my standard Republic-issue datapad, and my stolen purse contained only Shone and Devre's lightsabers. Nothing there to occupy my time.

I could pretend to be sleeping on the watch, but that wouldn't reflect well on me. I realized that Melar's identity didn't come with any hobbies or personal interests; aside from getting money, being a generally decent person, and 'having a family' the cover was datapad-thin.

So I sat on the floor, staring in the general direction of the door, and waited. Bastila emerged, looking far too well rested and not at all like she'd been startled awake by a message. Not fair.

"At least hyperspace is _interesting_ to stare at," I said in a bored tone, turning toward her. "Rest well?"

"I did, thank you, Melar. Now come, Ashen has found us a ship."

"Good," I said, rising smoothly to follow her out. "My decryption of the Sith codes is only valid until they change the base key. After that, even I wouldn't be able to get us through."

She paused, glanced back at me with that confused expression for a moment, then nodded and motioned for me to follow.

Ashen was waiting for us, her black hair tied back and her belongings packed into a small hovercrate. In contrast to the sparseness of her newly-emptied home, she was wearing even more jewelry than before. It looked, to me, quite conspicuous.

With her stood a shifty-eyed Quarren man, his facial tentacles quivering in agitation.

"You are absolutely confident in these codes?" he demanded the moment we entered the room. "My ship, my life, my entire reputation rests on this, I cannot afford you to be mistaken."

"I'm sure," I replied. I gave a nod of greeting. "Melar Serav."

"You broke the code yourself?"

"I captured a Sith shuttle this morning," I said, shrugging. "It crashed, but I was able to reverse-engineer its unlocking sequence into the fleet-wide access key. However, I can't guarantee its validity past galactic midnight, so. . .?"

The Quarren watched me a moment, then nodded. "You're right, we should be going. I'm Ulen Evmon, captain of the _Sheltered Starlight_. Fastest transport this side of Correlia, and that's a guarantee."

"Where is _Sheltered Starlight_ berthed?" Ashen demanded.

"Not far," Ulen replied. "This everything you're bringing?"

"I have no belongings aside from what I carry," Bastila replied, and I nodded.

"Same."

Ashen pushed her hovercrate along.

Ulen nodded, tentacles quivering. "Good, that will make things quicker." He started for the door, then hesitated and turned back to us. "One thing. We have two other passengers. Pre-booked, high-paying—" Bastila looked like she wanted to protest, but the Quarren raised a hand to cut her off. "I cannot under any circumstances change these arrangements. I will be stopping _Sheltered Starlight_ in sector 199-29 for a quarter hour. If they do not arrive in time, we leave them and go, but I must at least give them the chance to come aboard. It is a matter of honour. And. . . life or death."

"I dislike the delay," Bastila said, but she didn't make a move to convince him otherwise with the Force. "We must hurry, but a quarter hour isn't so long."

Ulen managed a brief smile.

* * *

 _Sheltered Starlight_ was an impressive craft for a private smuggler. Squat and blocky, the vessel had two full decks in the fore (comprising barely a third of the ship's volume) and a double-high cargo bay in the aft. There was space enough for a dozen passengers to stay comfortably, double that if they didn't mind sharing.

Ulen sniffed irritably when we walked past the mostly-empty cargo bay to reach the control room. "Sith 'inspections' will put me out of business yet," muttered the smuggler.

I copied over the departure code, double-checking my calculations to ensure they weren't in error - they weren't - and Ulen set a course back across the city to meet his other passengers.

Once _Sheltered Starlight_ was underway, he led us upstairs to our guest quarters. The upper level was divided roughly into quarters, with hallways separating individual rooms. It wasn't in the greatest repair, but it was certainly more than I'd have expected on a smuggler's ship. The beds had sheets and blankets, and not cheap ones.

It made me wonder who he usually transported. Perhaps his 'reputation' wasn't as false as I'd at first assumed.

"There are no locks at present," he said, sounding only slightly apologetic. "Sith inspectors. But the doors seal well. Soundproof and blasterproof."

"Thank you," Bastila said.

"You're the ones paying," Ulen said. "And that's assuming these codes are correct."

"They are," I said. "I calculate a less than .2 percent chance that the Sith have altered their code patterns in the past day."

Ashen, Bastila, and I entered our new accommodations while Ulen returned to the control room.

"Departing in twelve minutes," he told us. "She rides smooth, but we'll be out of here in a big hurry so make sure you're seated or something stable."

I lay down on the bed and set about completely reprogramming my Republic-issue datapad. I didn't want to be tracked and monitored, and I needed a way to gather intel anonymously. Their operating system was just a modified and heavily restricted proprietary version of the Holtek standard that ran just about everything, so I was sure that with a few days of work I could revert to the open version.

The tricky part would be doing so in a way that would leave casual observers - Bastila and the Jedi Council on Dantooine - certain the entire time that it had remained under their control. The easiest way would be to partition the storage and only do things on the Republic side that I intended to be monitored, but that would introduce the delay of rebooting every time I wanted to do anything covert and the risk of someone noticing the gaps.

It would do as a backup move, but I needed something more subtle in the long run. I'd be undercover on Dantooine for as long as it took to fully understand what had been done to me and how to revert the Force bond to Malak, so I didn't want to be conspicuously 'restarting' my datapad every time anyone walked in.

I closed the door to my room, then yelled, "Bastila! I need your help!"

I waited. She'd not ignore a plea like that if she could hear me.

I tried again. "Bastila! In here! Hurry!"

No response. I smiled. It would seem the claim of soundproof rooms wasn't exaggerated. With the Force I could sense anyone in the entirety of the ship, hangar, and street block without effort. No one would be able to sneak up on me.

Confident in my solitude, I began to pace and contemplate the datapad. It was an insignificant problem, in the long run, but having a device I could rely on that I knew wasn't being tracked would be an invaluable tool during my stay on Dantooine.

Our fellow passengers arrived ten minutes later. Neither registered as a threat. Ulen assigned them to rooms on the opposite side of the guest quarters, each in their own compartment, then the ship vibrated as it began preparations for launch.

My codes were correct, I knew, but I found myself recalculating them again. Just to be sure.

 _Sheltered Starlight_ slid through the atmosphere with the usual turbulence, smoother by far than my landing had been, and though I had no view of the outside I could guess when we hit space by the brief flicker of lightheadedness and disorientation that occurred as the planet's gravity stopped fighting that of the ship itself.

'Down' became 'still down but less so' with enough gradualness that it was normally unnoticeable. The fact that I noticed meant we'd probably left at great speed, which made me curious about the _Sheltered Starlight_ 's capabilities.

But we'd made it.

No Sith cannons blasting us out of existence. No proximity alarms. No tractor beam bringing a sudden halt.

Just like that, we were away from Taris. And on the way to the last place in the galaxy I'd ever have thought to set course toward again. Dantooine, and the most dangerous Jedi Masters in the galaxy.


	11. Shaken

The last thing I'd expected was a welcoming committee.

For Bastila, I could understand it - she was a powerful young Jedi with a unique gift, the last great hope for their Order holding us off. Granted, with Malak in a rage over my death and myself absent, Sith strategies would probably be faltering right about then.

But they didn't say more than a few words to Bastila. They came right for me.

"Melar Serav, welcome back!" proclaimed a dark-skinned human, clapping my shoulder jovially. "Are you doing well?"

"Eh, yes?" I replied, neither identity prepared for this bizarre camaraderie.

"Wonderful. I trust you rested during your trip back?"

"Yes," I replied again, even more confused. I slipped into Melar's set of memories to see if there was any mention of the Jedi Council personally interacting with him, but there was no foundation there which suggested any such thing.

"Masters," Bastila said, stepping forward with an extravagant bow. "There have been some developments you should be aware of before we continue."

"Very well," said a small long-eared Jedi. He motioned us to follow, and the contingency of Masters turned to lead us down into the Academy.

I'd been here once before, when Malak and I first discovered. . . when we. . . it was important, and brought us here, though I couldn't quite bring the details to mind. But this time I was escorted straight to the Council room itself, where the masters took their seats and motioned for Bastila and I to stand before them.

"Melar has a Force connection to my mind," Bastila said without preamble. "When we were separated on the _Endar Spire_ , he spoke directly into my mind, seemingly effortlessly."

"Indeed?" inquired a twi'lek Jedi. "How unexpected. Otherwise, though, did he perform as anticipated?"

"There was little opportunity, Masters," Bastila said. "We were ambushed almost the moment we exited hyperspace. He was able to commandeer a Sith shuttle to escape in, as well as obtaining the ship's access codes and reverse-engineering them somehow to calculate the Sith departure codes."

That elicited raised eyebrows or other expressions of surprise from all the Masters present.

"Melar has no skill as a code-breaker," the pale human grumbled. "I'm sure you were mistaken."

"My resume—" I began, but cut off when everyone stared at me as though I'd committed some terribly shocking social taboo by speaking.

"Resume?" the twi'lek asked. "Padawan Bastila?"

"He has developed a number of independent traits," she said. "Code-breaking, a fear of Jedi mental powers, an admiration for Revan, and this nonsense about a resume among them."

"And you say he is connected to you in the Force?" asked the short creature.

"You do realize I'm standing right here?" I asked, starting to get irritated. "You could ask _me_ about myself, not _her_."

They gave me that uncertain expression again, and I frowned back. "I may have signed on for your escort mission, but that doesn't mean you have the right to treat me as a child."

The short Jedi laughed, though the others did not seem amused.

"It seems the Force has a sense of humor."

"Is that so, Master?" Bastila asked, finally sounding confused herself.

"Melar is an independent being, and he is right. We ought not speak as though he were a child, though in truth it may be a more apt description than he knows."

Indeed. If not for the remains of years of adult experience, I may as well have been a child. They'd certainly left gaps large enough to fit my entire childhood into.

"I apologize," continued the small Jedi, "to you, Melar, for treating you as unimportant. As we are all one, in the Force, we all deserve the same recognition as brothers and sisters together. Whatever your past, or origins, you are an equal with us now and that is what matters. I beg your forgiveness."

 _Wow_.

"Of course," I replied graciously. "Um. . . I don't know your name."

"I am Master Vandar," he said. "I see that you have forgotten. I'm sure your mind will settle and stop losing information soon. These are Master Vrook," the scowling pale human, "Master Zhar," the twi'lek, "and Master Dorak," the dark human.

"Masters, I am concerned with the future of this plan," Bastila said the moment the introductions were completed. "Melar has a _very_ strong connection to my mind. Is that going to be the case with all of them?"

 _All of them?_ My heart nearly skipped a beat. How many prisoners did the Jedi have? Were they going to convert all my subordinates into obedient Jedi followers? None of my underlings, excepting maybe Malak and one or two others, would have the ability to resist the Dantooine Jedi should they attempt with concerted strength to rewrite their memories.

 _I'd_ survived only by luck and stubborn determination, and even then I was missing large portions of myself. If the Dantooine Council had discovered a way to reliably convert strong Sith to their mindset by force, it was a complete galaxy-changing discovery. I had to warn Malak.

Prediction: Jedi tactics were about to shift dramatically, away from spreading themselves thin to protect planets, and toward moving in concerted groups. Capturing and subduing powerful Sith so they could be converted.

The rest of the galaxy no longer mattered. The Jedi had finally learned to do whatever necessary to win.

Dantooine was the Jedi Order's Malachor.

What I'd been trying to do for so long, with only the most limited success, they'd accomplished. The fact that I was the first _(was I first?)_ subject of this new program seemed irony of the highest order.

"I expect it will be so at first," Dorak said. It took me a moment to reorient to the conversation. "We will learn more as we proceed. You will not be the one to whom they are all tied, of course. You were needed at first for your natural strength, but now the concept has been proven viable we can carry on ourselves from here."

So I _was_ the first. And they were casually discussing more. For once, I was glad of my inability to control the Force, because if I'd had even a scrap of connection remaining I'd have been crushing the life from them without care for the fact that I stood in the heart of their strength and would be cut down in moments.

I reached out, flung my mental reach as far as I could stretch, in every direction. Trying to feel for any others of my followers. But it was useless; so many Jedi covered and subsumed any hint of Dark Side energy, leaving me only with a very accurate mapping of all the Force-sensitives in the enclave and village nearby.

So many. Even here, at the most remote reject of a temple, dozens of students, dozens of Jedi. And these four masters who sat before me, casually discussing the subjugation of my underlings.

 _Resolution: As soon as I'm reunited with Malak, Malachor must become my top priority._ I'd spent too long experimenting, not enough time in concerted effort to understand the power beneath what I'd accomplished. Taking too long on the 'what' and not enough on the 'how' and 'why'.

Secondary Goal: Obtain any and all research on mental techniques that this enclave may hold.

My primary objective remained my Force bond, but the mental techniques of the Jedi were a very close second. If this was their new tactic, I had to be prepared - _we_ had to be prepared - to meet them on the same footing.

The Jedi Order destroyed my life and tried to reshape me to their will.

I would do my best to return the favour.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_

 _Early update for July, since I'm taking the month off for Camp Nanowrimo and to try and get my writing mojo back in gear. Next chapter should be ready for August 5, as planned.  
_


	12. Followed

After the Jedi Council finished talking with Bastila about our time on Taris, they asked me a great many questions about the actions we took, how I felt throughout it, and whether I noticed anything strange at any time. I let Melar's memories handle that, aside from the actual events on Taris, and maintained that apart from some disorientation when first awakening on the _Endar Spire_ everything had gone fairly smoothly.

Needless to say, I did not tell them about my encounters with Shone and Devre, or the lightsabers I'd stashed out of sight on _Sheltered Starlight_. I implied strongly that I'd been alone on the Sith shuttle, that the code had just happened to be there, and I'd crashed the shuttle myself in the stress of the moment.

I couldn't be sure how much they believed, but I never got a sense that they even suspected I might be lying or trying to conceal things from them. Were they that confident in their rewriting of my mind? Or did they just not want to risk 'Melar' questioning whether they might mistrust him and searching for deeper reasons which could risk his discovery of the remains of my own life?

They finally dismissed Bastila and I to 'go to our chambers' and while Bastila gave her extravagant bow, I just frowned in confusion. I had no memory, myself or Melar, of having a chamber in the Dantooine enclave at any time.

"Melar, have you forgotten the way?" Vandar asked.

"I don't recall having a place here," I admitted.

"It seems you've forgotten a great deal since you left," Vrook said. "Just what do you remember?"

"Nothing about this academy. Bastila said she saved my life, but I don't remember it."

"Saved your life?" Zhar asked. "That is a strange way of wording it."

"She said I was on the very edge of death for a long time, and that's why we're connected."

"That is closer to the truth," Vandar said. "But more accurately still would be to say that she kept you just this side of life for the time it took your spirit to coalesce."

Whatever _that_ meant. "I don't remember anything about being dying or living or whatever. And I don't know the way to my chambers."

"The room at the end of the hall, through that door," Vrook said, pointing. "It's for guests, but since you'll be staying a while it's been assigned to you on a semi-permanent basis."

"Thank you." I didn't like the sound of that. Having a semi-permanent room assigned within such easy access of the Council chambers.

I left them and hurried up the sloping hallway to my new quarters. It was a sparse room, typical of Jedi. Bed, storage lockers, shelf, a few trinkets for ornamentation.

I waited only long enough to ensure that no one was watching, then slipped out. I carefully coordinated my movements to coincide with no one looking. Since I could sense the entirety of the base I easily avoided being seen, though anyone else with as strong a Force sense as myself would be aware of my general location. I had to trust they had better things to do than observe me constantly.

The _Sheltered Starlight_ was refueling and taking on supplies from the exotic dealers that Dantooine boasted. Though the planet's surface was covered with endless plains now, in the past there had been enough of interest that the few archaeologists and treasure hunters authorized to search the planet could make a tidy profit.

But that didn't mean I could delay. Ulen owed us nothing. Owed _me_ nothing. And I had to retrieve my lightsabers before he departed. Tracking a smuggler was harder than trying to catch a squid barehanded.

I had spent enough time in and around _Sheltered Starlight_ during our trip that my mental Force map contained every keycode Ulen had entered. Including that on the front hatch.

I waited until a clear moment, then strode confidently over to the ship and punched in the code with the casualness of familiarity. No one questioned me, or even glanced twice.

I was halfway to my room when the ship vibrated, the engines powering up. With a hiss-slam the front hatch closed and sealed itself.

Of course. I hurried up the stairs and toward my room. A heavily-armed trandoshan stepped in front of me from her own room, grinning maliciously.

"Melarserav," she hissed, blurring my name together into a single word. "How surprising that you rejoin us."

She patted a Tarisian noblewoman's purse tied casually to her belt, and a quick check with the Force verified that it was mine, containing Shone and Devre's lightsabers. "Interesting person, carrying weapons of the Sith but following a Jedi."

"What do you want?" I asked. I didn't have time for this, if Ulen was taking off soon, I needed to be back on the ground. I didn't have any of the Jedi Council's files yet, and I didn't have Bastila. I would need both before I returned to Malak, if we were to regain what was stolen from me.

"You are a valuable person, Melarserav," the trandoshan hissed. "It seems you made quite an impression with the Sith."

Melar's instinctive panic swelled in the back of my mind, trying to burst free of its containment, but my instructions and threats held my mental state steady.

I crossed my arms and glared at the trandoshan. "If you're some kind of bounty hunter, you ought to know better than to threaten someone like me."

"I think not," she slurred. "You hide your abilities from the Jedi so well, I wonder if you are not just a lucky man with stolen lightsabers. A Jedi would not stand while I hold their possessions. A Sith would not have spoken this long without attacking. You are something different, Melarserav."

"What I _am_ is very irritated," I said.

I pulled on the Force, strained to project it across itself into the past, show me actions before they occurred. An extremely advanced technique, and not one that I'd spent much time training in before my defeat. The Force usually fed what precognition was required at any given moment, and increasing physical and mental speed and reaction times had always seemed more valuable. What did it matter if you saw your defeat coming, if you were too slow to avoid it?

Now, without any access to physical Force abilities, a better grasp of precognition would have been very useful. But my mind was focused enough it hardly mattered. The trandoshan began to move, and I moved first.

Observation: weight imbalance, weaponry excessive. Overconfident. Calculation. . .

I stepped aside, twisting her arm so she flailed sideways with the momentum of her step, let the recoil spin me back slightly, then moved just ahead of her, ducking and slipping away from every blow she made. Once she stopped overcommitting, I resumed intercepting her attacks or directing her momentum against her.

It took less than a minute to knock her to the ground, disarmed, my lightsabers resting comfortably in my hands again. I flipped them on, the hum a pleasant counterpart to the ship's engines.

"Next time you decide to steal a lightsaber," I whispered, bringing the crimson blades close enough that she'd feel their heat, "check that the owner is really a brainless thief and not the most powerful Force-master in the galaxy. I could kill you now. I could twist your mind on itself until you didn't know your family from your worst enemy. I could bind your soul to my own and make you my slave forever. I could do _anything_ and there's nothing you could do to stop me."

"Yess, my life is forfeit to your strength," the trandoshan said. She sounded almost eager. She tilted her head, grinning up at me.

"Your culture, I believe, honors life-debts," I said. "If I spare you, save you from your rightful death for challenging one so far stronger than yourself, would that not mean that your life belongs to me in honour, not death?"

She hissed at me, snarling and shaking her head. "You would twist our honour. Kill me."

"And what if I refuse?"

"You cannot create a life-debt by saving me from yourself," she hissed. "It is a paradox. A deception."

"But if another rescued you from me, that would qualify?" I asked.

She snarled again, but nodded. "You bested me in a fair fight, you have proven your strength."

I deactivated my lightsabers and took a step back from her.

"Then let me tell you a story," I said softly. "There was a man, stronger and wiser and more powerful than anyone in the whole galaxy. Than anyone who had come before, or would come after. He was betrayed, lured into a trap, and destroyed by a hundred of his friends and enemies working together. If this man had lived, and tried to kill you, do you think you would survive?"

She sat up, hissing in a way that sounded almost like laughter. "No."

"And there was another man, an explorer. Kind and caring, with a family of his own. This man was no great warrior, but he had a code of honour. He would lie, and he would steal, but he would never do so without need. If the first man tried to kill you, and the second stepped in to save you, would you owe him anything?"

She laughed again. "The man of honour is no fighter. He would die."

"If he saved you, if he found a clever ploy to convince the powerful man to spare you, what then would you owe him?"

"My life and honour," she admitted.

"Then here is the truth," I said, shifting my mental state into Revan entire. My voice rang firm and strident. "I am Revan, conqueror of the galaxy, master of the Star Forge. I have found you weak and unworthy of life."

I ignited the sabers and took a half-step, then allowed Melar to slip in, completely take over, block Revan out to only a whisper. "And I am Melar Serav, explorer," I lowered my weapons, felt the softness tinging the edges of my words. "I choose to save your life."

Removing the division, I slid back into the more comfortable shared persona. "So, nameless one. Now that you know the truth of what I am, you must choose your own fate. Will you die at Revan's hand? Or serve Melar?"

She shook her head and laughed. "You are a madman," she said. "Voices and lies." She raised her chin defiantly. "I do not give my life to a deception. We fought, and I die. That is how it must be."

I'd certainly given her every chance to join me. If she chose not to take it, that was her decision. I'd told her too much to let her go free. Either she swore to serve me or died. I couldn't afford to have the Jedi learning of my survival until I had the information I needed and was well away from Dantooine.

"What was your name?" I asked.

"I am Shekhyzhen," she replied.

"I regret this necessity," I told her, "but you have made your choice."

"Yes," she replied, unrepentant to the last. She didn't flinch in the slightest as my saber removed her head.

"Wasteful," I muttered. Then I strode to the other occupied compartment. _Sheltered Starlight_ was well out of Dantooine's atmosphere by now, so I would need to speak to Ulen at some point about returning. But a few hours in space wouldn't hurt anything at present.

If Shekhyzhen wasn't working alone, if the other passenger was her partner or associate, I needed to discover it at once.

I had no intention of leaving enemies at my back.

* * *

 _Author's Note : _

_Sorry about the delay in posting this; I've had it practically finished for days now, but completely forgot to finalize and post. Life is kinda crazy right now, plus I'm trying to focus on finishing Fall With Me at present. This shouldn't interfere with next month's chapter, but time will tell._


	13. Traversed

"Who are you?" the passenger demanded. He didn't appear pleased that I'd barged into his room.

"Melar Serav," I said, and watched for any flicker of recognition.

He looked thoughtful. "Yeah, you're that other passenger. Thought you were getting off at Dantooine. Not that I'm complaining. It'll be nice having more company than Shekh. Though I'd steer clear of her, she's a bit. . . aggressive."

"She won't be a problem," I said. He was doing a good job, but he was just slightly _too_ nervous, just slightly too. . . something. I couldn't quite pin down what bothered me about him, but I'd long ago learned to trust my instincts. If something felt wrong, it almost certainly was.

"Glad to hear it," he said. "Oh, my name's Wenden, I forgot to mention. Of Wenden Electronics, you probably haven't heard of us."

I hadn't. Electronics was such a cliche retro word to use in a company name, I would have been surprised to find it had more than a single planet of customers.

"Shekhyzhen traveled with you," I said slowly. "You came on together, departed Dantooine together."

"I hired her to protect me, if you must know," Wenden said, waving a casual hand as though he did that all the time. "Not a safe galaxy these days, you know."

Analysis: his outfit was a bit too nice, his boots a bit too worn, his stance a bit too solid. No, this was no mechanic, nor merchant.

"You're a fine actor," I said, drawing my lightsabers, "but not good enough."

He was moving in the same moment, flipping back, spinning a shock-staff out to its full length. In the enclosed room, my weapons would be slightly more maneuverable, but his weapon had longer reach.

"You really don't want to do this," I said, slipping smoothly into an aggressive combat stance.

"You're wanted by the Sith," Wenden said, keeping his weapon ready between us. "And they pay quite well."

"If this is about stealing Devre's lightsaber and humiliating Shone. . ."

Wenden shrugged. "Who am I to know that? Reasons don't matter. Only the amount. And yours is a considerable one."

Irrational fear tried to break out of its tight containment. Melar's imprinted compulsions were strong, the mere thought of being captured and imprisoned by the Sith would have sent him into a panic. But my will was stronger than that. I held Melar's fear separate, kept it locked away.

"Do you know where to locate Malak?" I asked. "You must, if you're planning to turn me over to him."

Wenden shook his head. "Malak? Nah. I just need to turn you over to any Sith outpost, they'll see to transporting." He squinted at me. "You're being awfully calm about this."

"I'm usually calm," I replied. "It's part of how I saved the galaxy the first time. Emotional decisions aren't generally as efficient as considered ones."

"You could just surrender," Wenden offered. "I don't mistreat my targets."

"I have business on Dantooine, and I have no intention of meeting Malak until it is concluded," I said. "However, I'm willing to offer you a deal. If you convince Ulen to remain on Dantooine until my research is complete, I will allow you to transport me to the Sith and claim the reward in return. It matters nothing to me how I arrive, and you seem a convenient option."

"Or I could just take you straight there now and spend the next week making money rather than sitting around doing nothing."

"Oh, I doubt my business will be finished in a week. The Jedi are quite inept, but I've never been the most adroit at interfacing with security systems. Circuits and mechanical puzzles are much more my forte than code on a screen."

Wenden looked confused a moment, then squinted at me. "You're saying you need a slicer, aren't you?"

"It would greatly expedite my departure," I admit.

"But, what's to stop me taking you to the Sith right now?"

"Who would you say is the better fighter?" I asked mildly. "Yourself or the Trandoshan?"

"Shekh could beat me eight times out of nine, sure," Wenden said slowly. "You locked her in her room or something, right?"

"It took me less than half a minute to take her down. She refused to submit to my will, so I killed her."

Wenden blinked. He shifted his grip on his staff uneasily.

"You can help me and survive this affair, or I can explain to Ulen that he has _two_ bodies to take care of."

"Who are you, Melar Serav? Why do the Sith want you so badly?"

I shrugged, answering only his second question. "Because I humiliated Shone and Devre and stole their lightsabers, I'd assume. It's not like I've done much else to oppose them recently."

He glanced again at the weapons I held. "You stole those from Sith?"

"Correct."

"I think I could wait on Dantooine a few weeks," he said, obviously unsettled. "I don't have any pressing appointments or anything."

I took a step back and deactivated the lightsabers. He collapsed his shockstaff, still eying me warily.

"I suggest you inform Ulen of our altered destination," I said. I could have informed the quarren smuggler myself, but this would be a good test of what Wenden was actually like. Would he try to sabotage me from spite? Or did he really understand that he was at my mercy?

He didn't try to sabotage me. We arrived back at Dantooine within the hour.

Ulen was displeased to find that I'd snuck on board and even more displeased with the Trandoshan corpse bleeding all over his ship.

I considered making additional threats or promises, but decided against it. If Ulen and Wenden concluded I was too dangerous and left without me, I was sure I could find another ship to appropriate when the time came. They didn't matter. I had my lightsabers, which had been the whole purpose of this overly-extended side trip.

I'd almost reached the exit door when Ulen cleared his throat behind me, a strange gurgling sound from a Quarren. "Wend here says you're looking for a slicer?"

"Possibly," I said, turning to regard him. "I need someone who knows how to decrypt and copy sensitive files without leaving a trace."

"There's always _some_ trace," Ulen said. "But I'm quite adept at hiding my tracks."

"Interesting. What is your price?"

"Depends on the job, doesn't it?" He wiggled his tentacles happily. "For you, my fee is reasonable."

Credits hardly mattered, since I'd have access to all my various accounts as soon as I finished stripping the Republic monitoring systems from my datapad.

"I need any information the Jedi have about Force Bonds," I said, stepping closer to him. "If you can get that, I'll pay your reasonable fee and compensate you for your time, and double your fee for transporting me to the Sith."

Ulen considered a moment, then nodded agreement. "I will need a reason to enter the compound, the archive is not connected to the outside holonet."

I considered that carefully. 'Revan wants me to' didn't seem like a good enough reason to convince the Jedi. _I_ could wander more or less freely, so long as they thought me firmly in hand, but Ulen was only a pilot and smuggler.

If I had direct access to the Force, I could probably walk with him to the archive and convince anyone we met to ignore him. But I didn't, and couldn't.

"You're friends with Ashen?" I asked. "Bastila set her up in the guest rooms too, if anyone caught you it would be easy enough to claim that you wanted to visit her and got lost."

It was a pretty flimsy excuse, but without the Force there was only so much I could do. Ulen seemed to agree, frowning at me.

"You think they won't hesitate to lock me up?" The quarren's voice burbled with concern. "They catch me tinkering in their files, I'll be lucky to _ever_ leave the planet alive. Jedi secrets are no easy thing to get."

"I need the files, and I'm willing to pay. If you don't want to do it personally, get on a com and walk me through it."

Ulen considered that a long time, then scowled and shook his head. "You'd be slow. To escape without notice, have to be fast."

"I'll think of a way," I promised.

"Or I will," Ulen said. "I can be quite creative when the situation calls for it."

"I'd be willing to pay a bonus if you can get the information quickly," I offered.

"Pretty desperate, aren't you?"

"Not desperate. I can wait if I have to, but I'd rather not." If we could actually get the information and get out within a week or two, it would be well worth whatever extravagant fee the smuggler demanded.

I reached for Malak, instinct forgetting that he'd been replaced by a Jedi child. She startled at my mental touch and I withdrew, scowling.

It had been a long time since I'd found myself so alone. For so many years, no matter the physical space separating us, Malak and I had been together. Planned together, coordinated together, fought together, won together.

Now, I was cut off, completely on my own. Everyone I knew thought I was dead. Thought _I_ was someone else.

"Find that information and I'll pay you very generously," I said, and walked away without waiting for a response.

I had a datapad to crack.


	14. Denied

It wasn't nearly as easy as I'd anticipated to break the Republic monitoring system on my datapad in a way that didn't blatantly scream 'Melar is doing something sneaky'. I could have removed it entirely, but that would defeat the purpose. They needed to think I was still their loyal Republic soldier, not Revan sneaking around while they weren't paying attention.

I really wasn't good at hacking, slicing, or code-breaking. After several hours spent without even making a little progress, I seriously considered turning that project too over to Ulen. The Quarren smuggler may be trustworthy enough that he wouldn't put his own tracking programs onto the device and try to blackmail me later, and/or steal my accounts. But while obtaining my enemies' data was something I trusted him for, I really didn't want to risk anyone else learning my own secrets.

This was something I had to do myself, and I'd have to figure it out through sheer study and determination. Unfortunately, researching on the holonet 'how to disable Republic security on a datapad' would be just as obvious a giveaway as if I'd just deactivated it blatantly. I needed another access point, or someone I could actually trust. And I was quite short on both those things at the moment.

Maybe it would be better to put this project aside for the moment and concentrate on finding a way to bring Ulen into the Jedi enclave so he could access their internal servers. That wouldn't be nearly as suspicious, wandering around and staring at things, as doing research into security bypass options.

I began to wander around the enclave every few hours, as though thinking, murmuring generic greetings to anyone I saw and staring at the walls, the ceiling, pretending preoccupation with some inner question. Since it was a Jedi enclave, I figured that sort of thing would be fairly common and not likely to be questioned.

I misjudged how many Jedi knew about me specifically, and how much attention my Republic uniform brought. I really stood out against the brown-robed Jedi and, while I was quite capable of acting a Jedi, Republic soldiers didn't generally wander about Jedi temples with calm meditative stances while staring at the architecture.

After the third time being kindly but firmly instructed back to my quarters, I gave up on that too. If _I_ couldn't wander around freely, there was no way I could bring Ulen in to do the same. The quarren slicer would attract even more attention than I did. This would require greater planning than just getting inside.

Aside from being moderately stressful, life at the Dantooine Jedi Enclave was remarkably boring. Without Force training or lightsaber spars or any friends - anyone I could trust even a little - I began to feel confined and isolated and very very bored.

It wasn't quite an imprisonment, but it was so close as to hardly matter. The Jedi never really seemed to be keeping track of me, but they kept showing up whenever I went very far. I began to suspect that they'd discovered my brief trip away from the planet with Ulen on _Sheltered Starlight_ and were concerned about my possible escape.

That made it feel even more confining. Though the Council members seemed willing enough to talk with me, it was always in a vague sort of way. They mostly asked questions about Melar's made-up past, ensuring that I had internalized their story sufficiently for their purposes.

They didn't do anything to unblock my Force abilities. They never 'discovered' my Force sensitivity. They seemed quite content to leave me locked down.

I needed to find what they knew about Force bonds, most importantly how they broke my connection with Malak and transferred it to this Bastila girl. But their archive was below ground, in a separate building from the main enclave, and locked down to only authorized access.

Analysis: I needed a way to get in, or to get Ulen in.

Nothing was forthcoming.

I alternated my free time between prowling the lesser library to which I had access - nothing useful there - and trying to hack my Republic datapad. But there I came up short. I was brilliant with hardware, but Malak was the software guy. (Which was also why he'd been able to program my elite assassin droid to constantly mock my speech patterns. I missed HK-47. What could have happened to him?)

So when Master Vandar came to me with news that one of their padawans had embraced the Dark Side and run away, it was the most interesting thing I'd heard all week. A fine way to break the tedium.

"She is hiding somewhere in the nearby plains," Vandar said. "I know you were trained as a negotiator. This would be a good chance to prove your abilities. See if you can convince her to return to the enclave peacefully. If she attacks you, please do your best to subdue her without killing her. Or escape without her harming you, if that is beyond your capacity."

I felt stunned by this sudden move. It felt far too trusting from a Dantooine master.

"You want _me_ to talk to a Dark Jedi?" I asked, leaning on Melar's instinctive fear of Sith to lend a tinge of panic to my voice.

"She is merely a fallen Padawan who needs guidance back to the Light," Vandar replied. Calm. Steady. "She is young, not fully trained. Your combat ability-"

"What combat ability?" I demanded. Melar's backstory contained no particular combat training; though I knew myself more than capable in a fight, _Melar_ shouldn't be.

Vandar didn't even twitch at the interruption. "You were trained here, before departing with Bastila for the mission to Taris. Perhaps the shuttle crash damaged your memory, but the ability should remain."

I scowled. "I haven't been practicing, training, or even doing more than basic exercises for weeks. I'm in no shape to take on a Dark Jedi."

"She is only an apprentice, Melar. If you wish to refuse this assignment, you need only say so. Arguing over minor details is only a waste of both our time."

Calculation: High level of certainty, I should be fine. She couldn't be more dangerous than Shone or Devre or Bandon. With my ability to see the Force undiminished, even if I couldn't actively use any physical abilities, I should be fine.

Calculation: Doing this would improve the trust levels of the Dantooine Jedi. Maybe I could convince them to allow me access to the archives without deception or breaking in.

Calculation: If she is truly drawn to the Dark Side, perhaps I could recruit her.

Without Malak, I felt constantly incomplete. I wasn't meant to be alone, I've always been part of a team. Whether with Malak at the Academy and after, or with my individual commanders and squads during the Mandalorian Wars. I needed _someone_ , and it was beginning to appear the path back to Malak's side would be longer and harder than I'd at first hoped.

Hypothesis: If I could recruit her, and convince the Jedi that I had instead brought her back to the Light, perhaps _she_ could gain access to the archives for me without arousing even the slightest suspicion.

I gave Master Vandar a curt nod. "I'll do it."

* * *

 _Author's Note_ _:_

 _2018-11-13: fixed a typo and clarified a few sentences._


	15. Assigned

It was a simple matter to find the Jedi girl. She was meditating in a grove, an old ruin, surrounded by wildlife she'd twisted to her will. Not bad for an angry teenager.

I approached her cautiously, not wanting to startle her into attacking just yet. If I were going to convert her to an ally, I needed to consider my moves carefully.

If she were a normal Sith and I hadn't been cut off from the Force, I'd have sent a gentle probe of dark side energy, assuring her thus of my kinship to her and making our interactions ones of testing and determining position.

But she wasn't a normal Sith. And I was almost entirely cut off from the Force.

I stepped out toward her grove with slow measured steps. She noticed me at once, lifting her head and gesturing to her controlled beasts. They sniffed the air themselves, letting out croaking barks, then charged me.

I closed my eyes just long enough to run pure calculation of their physical force and trajectories, then drew my lightsabers and sprang into action.

There were three hounds. The largest charged straight in, while the other two split off to surround me. I sensed the girl's power directing them, heightening their instinctive grasp of strategy beyond what it would take to bring down standard prey.

But I was no standard human, nor even standard Jedi. With hardly a whisper of sound, I flowed smoothly away from the onrushing alpha, veered left and spun just in time to slash the furthest flanking beast cleanly apart.

No terentatek these: mere kath hounds, with no resistance to a lightsaber's blade. It staggered another step, then fell. I ran past it, then spun to face the two remaining hounds. They couldn't surround me now.

"Call off your pets, I have no wish to slaughter them," I called out, my voice carrying easily across the flat plain that separated us.

The girl ran forward, leapt lightly up onto a rock and stared down at the scene. The two kath hounds broke off the attack and loped back to take positions in front of her rock. Within moments, more flooded in from the surrounding plains. Singly or in groups, more kath hounds joined the pack until she stood at the head of a formidable force.

"How many can you kill before we take you down, I wonder?" she asked, her accented voice carrying a note of scorn.

I deactivated my sabers, making no aggressive move. "Before you attack me, consider listening. I was sent by the Jedi to bring you back, but I owe them nothing."

"Then go, leave me to my place. Here I have found my power, my purpose. These plains will bow to my will, these beasts will do as I bid."

"What use are beasts?" I asked. "Why direct a pack of senseless animals when you could direct armies and fleets?"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, amused. "And a Republic soldier will be able to offer me such power?"

I briefly reactivated my twin crimson lightsabers and held them up. "I'm no Republic soldier. This is merely a disguise to prevent the Jedi assassinating me."

Her mocking laugh rang across the field. "Assassinate you? My, someone thinks highly of himself."

"They've tried before," I replied, with a casual shrug to indicate how little it concerned me.

"I find that hard to believe."

"Exactly. No one would expect it." I smiled coldly. "After all, I'm supposedly dead already."

"Why would they care if you live or die? Why should I?"

"I know it's hard to see without the mask and robes, but I'm really quite infamous."

She made a sort of snarling hiss, and the kath hounds around her shifted forward. Not far, maybe half a stride, but it was a potent reminder of her power.

With the Force, I could have tamed them all, held them back with a barrier of energy, or destroyed them with lightning. Without it, I may very well end up as no more than a kath-hound snack if I couldn't convince their mistress to ally with me.

"Do you truly seek the power the Dark Side offers?" I asked. "If you do, I can teach you. I know the Light, as well as the Dark, and can show you how and when to use each to best advantage. The closer you are aligned with one, the weaker your abilities in the other, but both can be used in tandem. This is what the Jedi refuse to acknowledge."

"Of course I seek the Dark Side. I have abandoned everything," her voice caught just a little, "and can never return. What else is there for me but power?"

Ooh. Not good. If she was only chasing darkness because she thought she had no choice, it would break her resolve the moment the Jedi welcomed her back.

 _Assessment: find a way to keep her desperate, make her think there is still no choice._

It wouldn't be an ideal solution, but right then I needed an ally. Not a weakling Jedi fool.

"I have a proposal for you," I said, crossing my own arms in mirror of her stance. "I can make the Jedi think you're still one of them, make them forget your departure, mask your growing strength from them for a short time. It should hold long enough for us to get what we need and escape before they realize what we're doing. They control the spaceport, but together we could sneak away and be off back to my fleets safely."

She was quiet a long moment. Long enough that I found myself watching the kath hounds, wary for any twitch that could signal my forthcoming death.

I could fight off maybe a dozen with my sabers, but there were far more than that arrayed against me. Without the Force, I could only do so much. But they didn't move to attack.

She made a curt gesture, whispered something I couldn't make out at this distance, and the pack dispersed. It was almost eerie, the way they melted into the tall grasses, vanishing from sight. Within moments, only the initial two remained.

I shivered involuntarily, aware that they were probably still surrounding us, just less visibly.

"Why do you need me, if you are so powerful?" she demanded.

"The Jedi don't trust me," I said. "I can only convince them of so much, and unlike you _they_ recognize me even without the trappings of my station."

"And what station is that?"

I hesitated. I'd hinted it plainly enough, but she was young. The Jedi may not have let her see what the rest of the galaxy knew. Could I afford to be honest with her?

 _Calculation: if she betrays me, I'll be at the Dantooine masters' mercy. If they know their false identity doesn't hold, they'll try again or kill me. It's not worth the risk. I've been too reckless already._

"I am one of Malak's advisors," I said, letting pride suffuse my voice. "The Jedi believe that they can convince me to betray his secrets, that I can be brought to their side through their subtle manipulations. They believe I will join them willingly, once they show me how 'evil' he is. They don't understand the weight of our power, the true purpose of our responsibility to the Dark Side. It's not about self-gratification, it's about embracing the greater destiny that could be ours."

Too much? Perhaps.

"I do not feel as great as I may be," she said, quietly. The admission seemed to deflate her, arms falling to her sides, her firm stance relaxing.

"Because too much of the Jedi teaching remains in your mind. I can show you the truth. I can help you move past your limitations into your true potential. The Sith do not dwell in solitude. We gather together, fight together, contest together, grow strong together."

I took a step toward her, and she made no move to stop me. I continued, until I stood no more than a meter from the rock where she waited.

"Join me." I held out my hand, palm up. "I can help you."

"And you need me," she said, not making a move. "What benefit to either of us if I return with you?"

"You will pretend to be repentant, that you have changed your ways and wish to return. I will see to it that the Jedi believe your lie. That should grant you access to their enclave again. Though you will be watched, it will not be as closely as they observe me. You can access their archives, get my agent into the files, so we can find what information I need before I can return to Malak."

"And what if I am content here?" Her posture straightened sharply, defiance seemed to return all at once. "What if I have no wish to be used by the Jedi, or by you? I have my pets, my faithful and loyal companions. What more do I need?"

"You know as well as I, you will not be content here long. You need more. And if you don't feel the pull of that desire yet, you will soon. Greatness is not something we sit and wait for. It's something we hunt down and drag protesting and struggling. It's something that we chase relentlessly. Are you capable of being relentless?"

"Of course."

"Are you truly convinced that you will be content here?" I put mocking and scorn into my voice. "That you could happily live out the rest of your life on this one small planet, with thoughtless beasts as your only companions? Or would you break, falter, and go crawling back to the Jedi if they offered you the slightest chance?"

"No! I would never go back. I could not. They would never accept me."

"They might, if they grew desperate enough. Malak is winning, you know. If he hasn't already claimed Taris, he will soon. He controls far more essential points throughout the galaxy than the Jedi would like to believe. We are the future. Do you want to help to craft it? Or merely wait to see what happens?"

She was silent again, considering, but I saw the tension in her rapid breathing and felt the uncertainty within her.

"What do you want?" I asked her softly. "If you could have anything in the galaxy, any life, anyone, anywhere. What would it be?"

Her eyes flickered down, met mine, then glanced away. "I would return to my homeworld with Belaya at my side, and I would tear down all the institutions that permit and exploit and thrive off the corruption and evil they don't even try to stop. I would free the desperate, rebuild a world which I could be proud to say was my home."

She shrugged helplessly. "But it is impossible, even for a Jedi. Too large a task to be accomplished." Her voice grew quieter still. "And Belaya would never be with me. Not after what I've done."

"No," I said firmly. "You're wrong. The Jedi like to believe they are weak, powerless. They allow others to control their decisions, allow themselves to be pushed aside, because they believe that their job is to stand by and allow the worlds to drag themselves down into their own destruction. I believe otherwise. I believe that our power is of itself a responsibility to change the galaxy. Our destiny, our calling, is to reshape the worlds as we see fit. Why else would the Force have spoken to us if not to act? Jedi help individuals, and pretend that discharges their responsibility. Malak and I reshape worlds. What you desire is not impossible. It's hardly even difficult."

I didn't have a solution to the 'Belaya' problem, but that could come later. If nothing presented itself before our departure, we could just take Belaya along for her like I'd be bringing Bastila to Malak.

She jumped lightly from the high rock, Force buoying her safely to the ground. I missed that power so much, it almost hurt to see her using it so casually.

Finally, after far too long, she took my still extended hand and clasped it tightly. "If you can indeed show me how to reshape worlds, I will help you."

I nodded and gripped her own hand firmly. "I promise you, if you stay with me, you'll have all the power you need."

"And who is it that I am allying myself to?" she asked as we separated, and only then did I realize that I still didn't know her name either.

"Call me Melar," I said, inclining my head toward her.

She nodded in reply. "And I am Juhani."


	16. Allied

I spent most of the trip back to the Jedi Enclave briefing Juhani on the exact steps the deception would need to take. She had to pretend to be quite contrite, then resume her normal Jedi tasks in whatever way the Council directed.

She would act the part of whatever they wished her to become. Then she would contact Ulen and together come up with a plan to infiltrate the archive and find as much information as the Jedi had on Force bonds.

With that information in hand, I could bring Bastila to Malak and we'd work together to repair whatever damage the Jedi had done. Juhani would join us, work her way up to greater power and save her planet from corruption.

Perfect.

But every plan is perfect in its inception. It's the execution that ends up causing problems. So I went over contingencies for one or both of us being discovered in various ways, for Ulen leaving without us, for the Sith launching an attack against Dantooine from orbit and destroying the spaceport, and any other scenario I could calculate with a moderate possibility level.

Juhani stopped asking questions long before we reached the settlement. She'd nod along, but her focus was clearly divided. Still, I continued; better subconscious information than none.

"What if Belaya hates me now?" she asked abruptly when we reached the outskirts of the town. "What if she doesn't even want to speak to me?"

"Then you'll know better than to offer her a place by your side," I answered. "Sometimes, affections are not returned. Or if they are, not to the same extent. It is no slight against your character, but something you will have to fight through to discover your true self. Loss can drown you if you're weak, or empower you to reach even greater heights if you use it correctly."

"What do you know of loss?" she demanded. "I don't need your empty words."

"Words are only as empty as you make them," I replied. "But there is a reason the Jedi draw back from attachment. They know the power that love - that loss, that desire, that jealousy - can become. And they fear it. We embrace it. There is no room for hesitation. Accept your fear and fight on regardless."

"I don't know if I can."

"Juhani, there is no worse enemy than yourself. There is no greater failure than your own. Nothing anyone does to you can compare with what you can do to yourself. Only you can hold back from power and destiny. Only you can choose to carry on this path."

I didn't actually believe half of what I was saying, but I had to keep her with me. At least another few days. Long enough to get what I needed. I would say and do whatever it took to get back to Malak.

She regarded me with suspicion, but I've never been easily caught in deception. Between truth and lies there is only my belief. No one watching from outside would know the difference.

We continued on, silent now, and neared the enclave itself. I knew the value of silence and I waited patiently. Juhani needed something from this place, as much as I did. Whether it was this Belaya she mentioned, or merely freedom from the Jedi, or something else, I would see to it that she obtained it. And she, in turn, would see to it that my own desperate goals were met. Bastila would be the simpler task; I merely needed to find a way to disable her, knock her unconscious long enough to bring her to Malak.

Breaking into the Jedi Archives and copying huge sections of their files would be much more complicated.

So many things would have been simpler had I been able to use the Force as I once had. Everything is possible with the Force, but without it I had to be more creative.

Calculation: Juhani is more concerned with her relationship with this Belaya than with aiding my plans. She is the one piece I have access to which may facilitate my plans working anytime soon.

Conclusion: Belaya must be made to react correctly, so that Juhani will react correctly.

What is the correct way? Given what I know and have observed so far of my ally, Juhani values the other Jedi's affection and respect to a childishly high degree. Belaya's reaction to her is the _only_ thing she's mentioned caring about any longer, now that she's officially cut ties with the Jedi. Prolonged deception aside. She wasn't concerned with the Jedi, wasn't concerned with her masters. She was concerned with Belaya.

I had encountered the Jedi in question more than once. She was an abrasive, unpleasant sort of person. Stuck up, much like Bastila. Convinced of her own rightness, like most Jedi. Young and foolish and arrogant.

Exactly the sort of person I'd have recruited to my side for the fight against the Mandalorians. She had the strength of will that could hold steady against opposition, and confidence that would make her a valued ally.

But I didn't have any Mandalorians to fight any longer. I had Bastila to capture and a ship to steal; far from ideal potential for recruitment.

"Juhani," I asked quietly.

"Yes, Melar?"

"Do you think we could convince Belaya to join us? Or do we need to make her come with us another way?"

Juhani bristled. "I don't want us to hurt her!"

"Not hurt her, but there are ways to act without resistance being possible."

Juhani shook her head. "No. I respect her too much to force her to come with us. If she refuses to join us, we'll leave her be."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "If we leave her behind, we'll probably never see her again."

"I'm sure. She is more valuable to me than—"

She cut herself off sharply and looked away. "We should hurry."

"Are you prepared?" I asked.

"I can get your information. I'm not so sure about kidnapping."

"There are some things that must be done. Malak will not trust you without proof of your sincerity."

"And why would we have to go to Malak at all? From what I've heard, he's just a big angry bully smashing his way across the galaxy."

Now it was my turn to bristle. "He has a lot to deal with, after I was killed and he lost his best strategist! How else was he supposed to carry on? He lost half his command structure in that Jedi ambush. I'm impressed he managed to carry on as well as he has."

"You call his actions doing _well_?"

"Well, he took Taris, didn't he? That's a tactical move. You can't pretend he doesn't know what he's doing. He is a very good fighter. Excellent in straight battles. It's just the deeper, wider scope he struggles with. Which is why he has me. Had, at least. And will have again."

Juhani looked at me with an ambiguous expression and spoke quietly. "You are really, truly devoted to him. Aren't you?"

"You respect Belaya's opinion of you, and would do anything to preserve her?"

She nodded.

"Malak believes in me that way. And I believe in him. We trained together, fought together, turned together. We chose our new path together, set out to conquer the galaxy together."

"Last I heard, Malak only cared about Revan. And then abandoned him when he thought the Jedi were going to capture him."

I ignored her assertion, though I would certainly have to discuss it with Malak once I found my way back to him. "He needs me, as much as I need him."

"I hope you're not just deceiving yourself. If we go to all this trouble to return to him, only for him to turn us away, I fear what it would do to you."

I snorted. "You don't know me well if you think I'd let that ever happen. Malak will be grateful for my return, and he will do anything in his power to make it a success. If he so much as tries to ignore me, I'll make him notice."

Juhani sighed wistfully. "You sound so confident. So strong. I wish I could be like that. I've never. . . never actually told Belaya what I feel for her. We spent so much time together, I can't believe she doesn't know. But I've never put it in words. Or into action. Just within my thoughts."

"If this Belaya means so much to you, you should speak with her before we leave."

Juhani nodded. "Yes. But only right before. I can't bear to have her know before then."

"If that's what you want."

"It is."


	17. Hidden

"Master Vandar, Master Vrook, Master Dorak, Master Zhar. Allow me to present Juhani, repentant of her Darkness and ready to return to the Jedi."

"Hmm," said Vandar. "I did not expect you to accomplish the task so quickly."

"I sense a deep unrest within her." Zhar shook his head. "Juhani. Are you truly willing to repent of what you've done and return to us?"

"I am, masters."

"Are you ready to give up your insistence on forming attachments which you know are beyond your purview as a Jedi?" Vrook demanded.

Juhani froze. I could feel her hesitate. I wished I had control of the Force so I could give her a signal to just agree. Physically touching her would be too suspicious.

"It may be that she is not ready, and requires time by herself to meditate," Dorak offered.

"No," Juhani replied quickly. "I may not be ready to give up those I care for. But. . . I'm ready to try. To begin to undertake that path which I must."

"I feel your resolve." Vandar nodded. "Very good. Is there anything you wish to tell this council before we disperse?"

"I am sorry for what I did to Quatra," Juhani said faintly. "I acted in haste, and it was ill-done. She deserved better from me."

"You will be glad to know that your master survived your attack. She is recovering, and should be able to resume your lessons by the time your period of contemplation allows you to return to her."

Juhani nodded, looking dazed. "Thank you, masters."

"Be strong, young one. And remember, a Jedi lives not for herself, but for all."

"Yes," she said quietly. "I know."

"You should return to your chambers," Zhar told her. "We have more to discuss with Melar."

Were they going to 'discover' my potential Force abilities, finally?

I inclined my head politely. "Masters. What do you want to discuss?"

"You've done excellently so far. Do you have anything to report about your expedition?"

I shrugged. "Fought some kath hounds. Found Juhani. Brought her back. What else is there to report?"

"How did you convince her to return? She was completely overwhelmed by emotion when she departed, and we were given no indication of it having subsided."

"She was lonely. Afraid. She didn't flee because she wanted to leave the Jedi, but because she thought she had no choice."

"And you convinced her that there was no need for her fear? That she would be welcomed back?"

I nodded.

"You show remarkable insight for one so young," Vrook remarked.

"Thank you, master."

Confusion: Wait. Wasn't Melar supposed to be afraid of or hate all Force users? I kept losing track of my persona. That was dangerous.

Had I said anything incriminating? Not that I could recall. Good. Perhaps their cover would hold. Besides, Melar's fear of Jedi was something I'd added onto the persona they created. It hadn't held because it wasn't really part of 'Melar's' makeup. They wouldn't notice the slip.

I waited, but no one spoke for a long minute.

"Am I to stay here long?" I asked. "I am accustomed to open space and freedom. These halls feel restrictive."

Zhar answered, "Of course, Melar. Our apologies. We should have considered your comfort and kept you informed of our plans in regards to you. We cannot spare a ship, but in a month we have arranged for a Republic transport to come collect you."

"A month." I said it flatly, inflectionless. That put a deadline on my departure. Preferably at least a good week before any Republic troops showed up. Depending on how long Juhani's reintegration took and what exactly it entailed, we might be cutting it very close.

Master Dorak sensed my concern, if not its cause. "They are quite busy at the moment and cannot drop everything to pick up one soldier, but they will be in the system for maneuvers then."

"I understand, masters." I would need to stop messing around with my datapad and start concentrating on how to capture and subdue Bastila long enough to transport her to Malak. Keeping a Jedi prisoner was no easy task, even with the Force. Without it, the problem became much more complicated. Add to that the fact that I'd be abducting her from the heart of the Jedi enclave itself and things seemed near impossible.

But not for me. Revan, Melar, or whatever name they chose next, I was not one to give up.

* * *

Juhani was allowed freedom of the enclave far sooner than I personally would have given. Within two days she was walking the groves, and wandering the town outside within the week.

The sublevel archives, though, she was not permitted to enter. Nor was I.

I searched the holonet for weapons, tactics, and Republic battle strategies related to capturing or containing Force-users. And anything else that I could reasonably look for without giving away my true intent.

The fact that the Sith were also Force-users made it easier. I could always couch everything in 'fighting darkside villains that would destroy me at a moment's thought' angle if anyone questioned my motives.

They never did. Perhaps they thought me fully subdued and were lax in monitoring me. Or perhaps my precautions were sufficient to deflect suspicion. Either way, the weeks passed without any confrontations.

It was disappointing in a way. I kept hoping they'd take the chance to 'discover' my latent Force potential and unlock my active powers, but it seemed they didn't trust me as far as that.

I could manage without. I was growing ever more adept at moving physically with reflexes and speed beyond normal humans, using my passive sense of the future to guide my body. It would never be enough for me to win a straight fight against a proper Jedi or Sith, but it did put me on a level above the standard soldier or mercenary. It would _help_ against Force-users, but I feared that nothing I could do would put me back on that same field until I could reclaim my birthright in the full power of the Force.

When these thoughts overcame me, I took to prowling the enclave halls and planning my abduction of Bastila. It would have to be done quickly and silently. If even a single Jedi noticed what we were doing, they could probably defeat me and Juhani even at our best.

Juhani was an eager student of the Dark Side, absorbing my teaching with an open mind and applying it readily. But a month would not be enough to gain the strength and confidence necessary for her to fight free of an entire Jedi enclave.

I'd located both Bastila's and Juhani's personal quarters, which were unfortunately at a good distance from each other. Juhani was enough younger than Bastila that she was with a completely different batch of students. There was little reason for them to be in each other's company.

Belaya would be a much simpler matter. She was strong-willed, but her arrogance made her over-confident. It would take no more than words to deceive her. I only needed the right trigger and she'd come running. My new apprentice wanted her, so I'd see to it that we would have her.

"Why don't the Sith or Dark Jedi help people?" Juhani asked. We'd moved to an open field well away from the enclave proper for our 'sparring'.

"We do. Haven't you seen the level of economic prosperity inspired by Malak's assault? The galaxy has never been more united. Between the Mandalorians and our recent advances, the Republic is doing better than it had for decades."

"You can't say that destroying whole worlds is good for anyone."

"Can't I? Taris was decadent and declining. Its destruction was the shock that was needed to galvanize certain hesitant forces into choosing a side. And that rather brilliant move was all Malak's doing; I would have merely captured it for control of the hyperlane intersection. Once we demonstrate our true enemies, all that unity will coalesce behind me. Us. Malak and I and you and everyone else."

Observation: having someone to speak with is dangerous. It leads to carelessness.

Juhani didn't relent. "There were billions, perhaps trillions, of beings on Taris. Even if some of them deserved to die, the vast majority of them were just normal people going about their lives. That isn't the kind of sacrifice anyone should be fine with making."

I snorted. "I'm not going to pretend that I'd have done the same. It may have been brilliant, but if I were in Malak's position, I would have subdued Taris in any number of other ways. It works well for shock, but if he continues with the same tactic it will quickly lose its power and set him up as someone few would desire to follow. Which is part of why I must return to him as quickly as possible."

"Were you so important?"

"I, and others. Malak has suffered too many losses lately. He was never the clearest thinker, and tended easily to rage. I fear that without me to temper his wrath it will burn unchecked and his conquest will fall to chaos. "

"Which is a bad thing?"

"You must trust me in this, Juhani, if you are to trust me at all. This conquest is our purpose, first and foremost. Malak's, mine, and now yours. All other goals must come second. Responsibility is the only true cost of power."

She considered a moment, then inclined her head. "I had not thought of it so."

"There is no escaping it, except through madness. And I would never wish to lose so much of myself. Responsibility is not so great a burden that I would discard who I am to cast it aside."

 _Though the Jedi would have me to do so, given their way. They would have me while away my years in pointless mundanity. They would have me ignore who I could be - should be - in favor of a pointless existence on this backwater nothing of a world. Or fighting for their war as a common soldier of no consequence._

Juhani spoke hesitantly. "I thought the followers of the Dark Side embraced complete freedom. Is not freedom the very antithesis of responsibility?"

"Freedom is about escaping restraints placed upon you by others. Responsibility is a restraint you choose for yourself. One who doesn't accept their responsibility cannot bear it, any more than a prisoner can be expected to keep an appointment. My friendship with Malak is a responsibility I fully accept." _And our conquest of the galaxy is a responsibility I will never surrender._

"After hearing so much about Malak and Revan, it is strange to hear anyone speak so casually of being his friend. Even as an enemy, the Jedi respect Malak and Revan a great deal. I suppose I'd imagined them as being. . . apart from us mere mortals." She laughed. "Foolish, I know."

"Not foolish. Revan and Malak were never commonplace. The things they did together," _we did together_ "could not have been done by anyone of lesser resolve. I am extremely fortunate to count Malak as a friend. I've never known another more faithful, more determined, or nearly as dramatic."

Recollection: Malak's liking for flair began long before we met. While I'd been content to quietly defeat any competition and spend my time in personal contemplation, Malak was a rush of fiery spirit and energy that the Jedi couldn't quite manage to subdue. We hadn't fallen in together at once. Gradually, over time, we slipped almost without noticing into deeper and deeper acquaintanceship, until we were inseparable.

And so we'd remained. Until now.

My mind reached out instinctively, only to jerk back when I was again reminded that my Force bond no longer reached to Malak, but to Bastila.

"I miss him." I hadn't meant to speak with gravity, but the words felt like a deep confession as I spoke. My voice refused to make it light or casual.

"We will find a way back to him," Juhani promised. I could hear the resolve in her voice. She truly meant it. She proved her value day by day, both for the present moment and to my future.

"And we'll bring Belaya," I promised. "She will see the truth, even as you have."


	18. Acted

Our planning concluded in the third week of my collaboration with Juhani. Though Ulen had at first agitated about the extended delay, I put them in contact with a group of Dantooine-based highgrade weapon and curiosity dealers which distracted them sufficiently.

The Quarren slicer had proved even more helpful than I'd anticipated. After Juhani and I took covert scans of the entrance to the Enclave's underground section, he created a customized slicing device whose ingenious workings I couldn't fathom.

He named an absurd price, but I promised that if we succeeded Malak would be more than happy to repay him twice over. I was sure my return was of near-infinite value, as would be his value to me.

We chose a busy day to slip into the archives. The Jedi were taking on a batch of new younglings from Coruscant in the coming week, and preparations lent a subtle air of urgency to their usually sedate actions. Not that they hurried. I wasn't sure Jedi were capable of it. But they did seem distracted and more attentive to their specific tasks.

I hoped it would suffice. If we were caught, there was little to do but try to talk our way out of it. I may be an expert liar, capable of believing anything I chose to say for as long as it took to say it, but I was less certain of Juhani's capacity for deception.

It was a nerve-wracking procedure, but no one seemed to notice or care as we sliced the door and entered.

We descended to the sublevel, found the appropriate archive room, and set Ulen's other device to downloading anything I thought looked interesting. It also ran a sweep behind the obvious holorecords to concealed files stored in the archive's servers through mechanics I couldn't fathom. Code was never my area of expertise.

I flicked through the list, selecting what to copy and what to discard, when I saw something that made my hand freeze mid-swipe. A folder. Not just a file, an _entire folder_ with my name on it. MELAR SERAV.

It was encrypted, but I knew either Ulen or Malak's codebreaking team could take care of that. I told the device to copy it. They didn't store other personal files here. Why would _my_ file be buried in the sublevel archives?

Calculation: this will be revealed once the file is decrypted. Time is short. Focus is required.

I shook my curiosity away and flicked down the list.

Another Jedi entered the library. I sensed him move through the shelves of holorecords in our general direction. My hand went to the lightsabers in my pouch. If he caught us, I'd be ready. It was too late to let anyone betray us to the Council. I couldn't kill him without causing significant ripples in the Force that would give us away more surely than his word. But I could subdue him quickly enough that the resultant Force ripple would be brief and silent.

I flicked Devre's lightsaber to its lowest setting, then dialed it up just enough to knock someone out and not otherwise harm them. It would have to be a precision strike; lightsabers were not intended as stun weapons and if I missed it would only hurt, alerting the Jedi that something was up. Back of the neck would be ideal.

I positioned myself behind a shelf and waited. The file transfer continued. Juhani hid herself so well in the minimal shadows I could hardly distinguish her from the background even knowing exactly where she stood.

The Jedi paused halfway down the aisle we'd been searching. He removed a stack of holorecords, then turned and carried them away.

I let out a breath and relaxed. I slipped the lightsaber back into its pouch and peered around the corner to see where the Jedi was. He was walking straight toward me, and gave a polite nod as he saw me. He'd set the disks on the table and turned to come back for more.

Calculation: If I retreat, I'll look even more suspicious. If I move as though intending to come around the corner anyway, it will reveal who I am, but raise a fractionally smaller alarm. I can still take him out from behind the moment he turns away if necessary.

I stepped out into the aisle and continued peering, as though I'd been searching the shelf I just came around. I deliberately didn't look at the Jedi. I ran one finger along the titles until I reached 'Master to Master, a history of the Order's greatest mentors' and pulled it out as though this were what I was after.

"Will you be needing the holotable?"

The Jedi's question startled me and caught me completely off guard. "Uh, no," I mumbled, trying to disguise my voice.

"How are you going to read it, then?"

"I have my own holoreader," I said, a moment before realizing that the holorecord I held was of an older and now-outdated format which required large and bulky holotables. A personal holoreader would be useless.

"Archive texts are not to be removed from the library," the Jedi said in a reproving voice. "You should know that."

"Ah, yes. I know that. I didn't realize the format. I can wait."

I shoved the holodisk back on the shelf, and turned to leave.

"What's your name, padawan?" he asked slowly, a tint of suspicion in his voice. "I don't recognize you."

I drew myself up and turned to face him, gambling on my presence. "I am no padawan. I have been a knight for years, and only returned here to perform vital research which a lesser library could not facilitate. You would do well to pay closer attention to the strength of those you encounter."

My confidence accomplished what perhaps nothing else could have. He blushed faintly and took a step back. "Oh. I apologize. I thought I knew all the Dantooine knights from the past decade."

"I only trained here a few years, the bulk of my time was spent on Coruscant." I gestured to his stack of records, hoping to deflect his attention from myself. "What are you researching?"

"The nature of Force bonds. We know so little about what causes a person to be connected to another, what the Force itself actually is." His voice rose in enthusiasm. "It lives in those connections, as we all know, but the fact that some are stronger and others weaker? The way animals and plants and even microorganisms strengthen and build up the Force? The way the Force itself affects our minds and physical abilities? No one has been able to explain even a fraction of it."

"Weighty topics," I agreed, though my suspicions were rising by the moment. "Do you think you'll succeed?"

"No. But I hope that my observations may be of help to those who one day will discover the secrets behind all that is."

I laughed. "Truly, that is all you aspire to?"

He frowned. "And what are _you_ researching that's so much more important than the nature of the connections forged in Force itself?"

I gestured vaguely toward the holorecord. "I'll be training an apprentice soon."

"Aren't you a little young for that?"

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I do what I can, and this one needs me."

"May the Force be with you," he said, with the air of one who's very glad not to be in my position.

I took it as a dismissal, though I was sure it hadn't been meant as such. I needed to extricate myself from this conversation. I bowed and took a step back.

"May the Force be with you," I repeated, and turned to leave.

The file copying device beeped its completion. I collected Juhani and we departed. No one tried to stop us, but as we turned the corner I caught sight of the Jedi watching us from where he sat at the holotable.

He was still suspicious, probably trying to mentally place who I could be. I could only be glad he hadn't recognized me at once. The number of Jedi who'd seen me as Revan before I began wearing the mask at all times was not large, but there were more than enough of them to be a potential threat.

"Change of plans. We're leaving now. Can you get Bastila?"

She nodded. I'd planned for nearly every contingent, one of which being her capturing Bastila for me. She would be of less suspicion in the fellow female's quarters than myself. Once there, a stunner to the chest at close range would deal with her.

Juhani wasn't entirely comfortable with it, but I'd convinced her of its necessity.

I'd made certain to resolve with the greatest strength possible that I would do everything in my considerable power to treat Bastila well during her captivity and promptly return her undamaged to her training once we removed the bond from her. It might prove unnecessary, but it was one of the few things I could do to minimize the threat our actions could cause to ripple back in the Force from the future I planned.

I'd provided Juhani with other contingencies in the event Bastila was warned anyway. In the utmost extreme she could use a fast-acting gas I'd procured from the weapons traders. It would knock her out as well, but I was sure it would be less of a problem to transport two unconscious women than to deal with an alert Jedi Council.

Meanwhile, it was my job to convince Belaya to join us. I didn't understand what Juhani saw in her, but there's no accounting for friendship. After all, most people couldn't believe Malak and I would ever be able to get along. It sounds like the sort of thing doomed to disaster.

* * *

Belaya sat meditating as I entered, but she clearly sensed something awry for she stood at once and drew her lightsaber.

"Do you care for Juhani?" I asked. "Are you willing to go beyond the ordinary requirements of friendship for her? Or are you unworthy of the trust she has placed in you?"

She frowned at me, but didn't lower the weapon. "You should not be here, Melar. You ought to be preparing for your departure."

"I am fully prepared. I ask again, how far are you willing to go for Juhani? If she were to slide away again from the Jedi teachings, what would you do?"

"I would bring her back to the Light, as you did. What is your point?"

"Would you go after her if she fled to the stars?"

Belaya hesitated. "My duty is here," she said, but uncertainty tinged her voice.

"If you remain here, you'll never see her again."

"What are you saying?"

"She's leaving today. I'm going to accompany her and seek to mentor her, but it would be a great help to her if a friend could join us."

"You? Mentor a wayward padawan? How could you possibly imagine such a foolish plan could work? I should tell the Council and put a stop to this madness before you cause any more trouble."

I closed my eyes a moment and reached out into the Force to check on Juhani's progress. She'd failed to immediately subdue Bastila. From what I could tell, it seemed they were talking.

I scowled and drew my lightsabers. "I don't want to hurt you, but I must insist you accompany me and Juhani. If you will not come for friendship, then perhaps you will to act as a counterbalance to myself. You are right, this plan is inherently foolish, but it is not ill-conceived. Nor mad. I planned it with the utmost care."

I activated both blades, the crimson light overpowering the fainter yellow of Belaya's saber.

"If you try to alert the Council, I will kill you. If you agree to accompany Juhani, you may live. I give my word, you won't be harmed so long as you don't attempt to harm us or betray us to the Jedi."

I anticipated a high likelihood of her trying to turn me in, for when a Jedi of her stubborn nature was confronted by a Sith in her bedroom that was the natural reaction. There was a decent chance that she'd be scared enough to accede, though. Few young Jedi were trained to withstand close, immediate, unexpected threat.

Unfortunately, my calculations did not cover every possibility. Belaya simply laughed.

"You're just a soldier. Put those away before you hurt yourself. I don't know what's come over you, but you've obviously developed some sort of personality flaw since your escape from Taris. Maybe more than one."

I frowned at her, but she continued undeterred.

"This is exactly why we wanted to keep you here for observation." She deactivated her saber and gave me a terse nod. "It's alright, Melar. Whatever you think you're doing, it doesn't matter. Just stop waving those around and take a few deep breaths. Calm yourself."

I refused to be taken off balance. I advanced toward her, giving my off-hand saber a casual flourish. "You mistake me, girl. Compared to me, you are nothing. I have been a Jedi since before you learned to walk, and I have fought beside and against the greatest the Order has to offer. Will you come with me willingly, or must I drag you by force?"

She took a step back, seemingly involuntarily, and brought her saber up and activated it again. She pointed it at me, but her hands were trembling. "Whatever's wrong with you, the Masters can fix. Just back down."

Devre's saber was still set on low. I used Shone's to lock with her single blade and twist it up and away. She moved with the action, not letting me force it from her hand. I reversed direction halfway, pivoting my body around to bring my off-hand behind her, and struck perfectly to the back of her neck.

She convulsed once as the lightsaber's energy overloaded her body, then collapsed, unconscious. I caught her falling saber before it could melt the floor and tucked it away with the others. Then I pulled her to her feet and picked her up.

I'd tried to think of non-suspicious ways to transport an unconscious Jedi, but there really wasn't one. At this point, if our confrontation hadn't already been noticed, it was only by a miracle. I really hoped Juhani could subdue Bastila, or all this would be for nothing.


	19. Delayed

I hurried toward the ship, Belaya's unconscious body in my arms. I'd warned Ulen to be ready, and he was. I noticed as I stashed Belaya in a cargo room that there were quite a few Dantooine-marked crates. The Quarren would probably come out of this whole affair with considerable wealth.

 _Don't get distracted._

I mentally checked on Juhani. She was _still_ talking with Bastila. Why weren't they here already?

I paced a moment, thinking through my options, but there were only two.

Wait, or act.

I couldn't afford to wait. Belaya's capture couldn't have gone unremarked, even with the enclave as busy as it was.

"Be ready to leave immediately when I return," I called up to Ulen.

He acknowledged and I stepped down the ramp.

At once I noticed the difference. The enclave hummed with currents of Force. Concern, worry. Fear, faint and fleeting. Determination, resolve.

They knew something was wrong, though hopefully not exactly what. Or where.

And _still_ Bastila and Juhani stood talking.

I didn't care about evading notice now. It was a straight race. Would I get away, or would they catch me?

I ran.

The route to Bastila's room burned in my mind. I could sense her more clearly than any other Jedi on the planet. I could have found her with my eyes closed.

But when I reached her room the door was sealed.

I knocked loudly. No answer.

A passing padawan gave me a strange look. I'd passed a few other Jedi, but none strongly enough in tune with the Force to be aware of the undercurrents of the Force that were gathering.

"Juhani! Come on, we're going to be late."

No reply from within the room. I wasn't even sure if they'd be able to hear me through the sealed door.

I strained, trying to reach through the Force to contact Juhani. But though I could mentally see her and feel her presence, any active use of force slipped away from me. I paced, frustrated, until the padawan left. Then I drew Shone's saber and stabbed it into the door.

Bastila's sharp spike of fear was unavoidable. The Dantooine Jedi Masters would surely sense it too, as would any Jedi with even a modicum of ability to Force sense. If Belaya's disappearance hadn't alerted them, they certainly would be aware of my actions now.

I could almost hear Juhani and Bastila speaking now, their voices high and fast, but the sound of my saber melting through the door drowned out anything else.

The Dantooine enclave was built to withstand a lot, but the doors to the students' rooms hadn't been designed to resist the direct application of a lightsaber. It didn't take more than a minute to break through.

By then, I could sense chaos building around us. The Council were meeting in their chamber, no doubt holding hasty conference. Jedi Knights had been dispatched. I could sense them spreading out through the enclave to cut off any potential escape routes.

I stepped over the smoking glowing-edged pile of former-door, taking in the scene at a glance.

Juhani stood in a supplicating posture. Bastila sat cross-legged upon her bed, her eyes wide and her lightsaber in hand, one blade active.

She tensed as I entered, then appeared confused.

"Melar? What are you doing? Where did you get a lightsaber? You should put that away, you could hurt someone." But she too, like Belaya before her, deactivated her own saber and seemed to relax.

"Why do none of you padawans take me seriously?"

I briefly attempted to calculate a scenario that accounted for this. The closest I could come was 'the Council kept the truth about me hidden' but that seemed flimsy. Would so many Jedi really be content to have a stranger, an insignificant Republic soldier, passing among them if they didn't know the reality of who and what I was? And _ignore_ my _lightsaber?!_

Surely they would have asked. Would have demanded answers. I know I would have in their place.

"Bastila will come with us," Juhani said. "Right, Bastila?"

"I. . ." she hesitated.

"Yes, you're coming," I growled, gesturing with my lightsaber. "Get up and come now."

"Be careful," Bastila insisted, as though more worried about the potential damage I could do to her furniture than to herself. She made no move to stand or follow. "And I haven't decided."

"There's no time. The Jedi are already spreading out to surround us. We'll probably have to fight free as it stands. Come with us freely, or I'll knock you out and carry you. But one way or the other, I'm not leaving Dantooine without you."

"That's very sweet, Melar, but your escort mission is over. You don't need to drag me along wherever-"

"It's not about you, it's about myself. My bond is somehow connected to you and I will not allow this to stand."

Bastila's frown deepened. "You are in no position-"

I ruthlessly bypassed her feeble emotions and projected my mental voice directly into her deepest thoughts.

 _I have every advantage, padawan Bastila. **You will come with us**. _

I let the last words echo, repeating again and again in her mind.

She swayed, dizzy, and tried to regain control of her thoughts.

 _A pointless effort. It is futile to resist. Did you really imagine 'Melar' would remain dominant for long? I am far too strong to be so easily subdued. Foolish Jedi. I will rejoin Malak, and your attempt to steal me for yourselves is doomed._

Confusion remained foremost in Bastila's mind, as she fought to ignore her fear. _Fear is wrong. What is wrong with Melar? Why is this happening? Fear is Dark. There is no emotion. . . How is Juhani involved?!_

 _Stop fighting and come._

I took her lightsaber from her hands while she remained stunned, submerged fully in our mental conversation and drowned in her own confusion. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. She swayed unsteadily, as part of her tried to resist and most of her was just confused.

 _Come with me._

If I could have actually _used_ the Force, this would have been so much easier. But I could only project my mental voice to her, and even that only because of her stolen bond.

"Take her other hand and let's get out of here."

Juhani obeyed. We guided the dazed and uncertain Bastila through the melted door, then started down the hall toward the spaceport.

I sensed no fewer than four Jedi guarding the way out. Two stationed at the next corridor intersection, two at the entrance to the spaceport itself. And the masters had apparently finished their deliberations, because they were moving in a cluster directly toward us.

Then I had to return my attention to Bastila, because without a constant stream of disorienting commentary from me she began to reassert her own will, which would make her much harder to transport.

Calculation: I'll barely survive a fight against two Force-using Jedi as it is. If I have to deal with a mental battle at the same time, we're all dead. An unconscious Jedi is less trouble than a resisting Jedi.

I flicked the lightsaber setting down to a safe stun margin, motioned for Juhani to catch her, and brushed the weapon across the back of Bastila's neck. She crumpled, as had Belaya. Juhani grunted and staggered back under her weight. I could have carried her myself, but I needed my hands free for this next stage.

Correction: With the Council closing in, any time gained would be an advantage. Without the Force to increase my body's abilities, I'd never be able to outrace anyone.

I chafed at the necessity of moving at basic physical speeds, but I was stronger than Juhani. I took Bastila from her and ran for the ship, Juhani easily keeping pace with me. It gained us maybe half a minute on our pursuers. The Council insisted on walking briskly but not running. That would be the only chance we had.

Then we neared the intersection, and the two guard Jedi ignited their lightsabers. One blue, holding a ready stance, the other green. A wave of Force blasted down the corridor, pushing me back a step and knocking Juhani off balance completely.

I dropped Bastila into her lap and ignited Bastila and Belaya's sabers. The pair of yellow blades might help confuse them, disguise my true identity for vital moments.

Nothing in their stance changed. The guardian took a half step forward, while the consular took a half step back, readying Force.

Observation: their teamwork is perfect. Success in a straight combat will be impossible. Find a way to disrupt their communication or throw them off sync, otherwise this will be a very short fight.

I couldn't use the Force to grab and throw objects at them. I couldn't use the Force to move quickly enough to take them off guard. I had only Juhani at my back, and she was a half-trained padawan who still didn't really understand the Force.

And _Bastila_ , their next great hope, as my prisoner.

"Let us by, or I will kill her." I leveled one saber at them, the other at the unconscious Bastila. "But I swear on the Force, if you let us go, I will see to it that she will be returned to you safely once I am free."

The consular lowered his blade a fraction.

The guardian remained unmoved.

"And if you kill her, we'll kill you," he said. "The Masters are on their way. Whatever this idiotic escapade was meant to prove, you've failed. Now stand down. The Masters can fix this. Don't try to fight. We won't hesitate to break you if you do."

"And I won't hesitate to break _her_ ," I snarled. "I will leave this planet with her, alive or dead, if I have to go through everyone on the Council to do it."

Got to love absolute conviction. I may be bluffing in the extreme, but I sounded absolutely sincere. And a bit manic, which I thought was a nice touch.

"Melar, you've obviously—"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT PERSONALITY FLAWS YOU THINK I'VE DEVELOPED!" I roared. "Get _out of my way_ or I will crush you both with my bare hands and leave you in pieces for the Council to put back together!"

I grabbed Bastila in one hand, my active lightsaber singing her hair as I dragged her behind me, and stalked forward with the other saber still held forward.

Bluffing and posturing may be all I had, but I would use it to its utmost extreme.

* * *

 _Author's Note :_

 _I have no idea what's going on with this story any more._ _It's just going. Keeps surprising me._

 _I love it._


	20. Stolen

My actions and words seemed to unnerve the consular, but the guardian remained firm. He raised his saber into position to block.

I took a breath just as I reached them and screamed, the sort of wordless bellowing scream that would have been infused with stunning, debilitating Force if I'd still been able to use it.

Both Jedi flinched, instinctively throwing up Force barriers around themselves before realizing there was no actual attack. I pushed past them before they could recover, dragging Bastila behind me. I parried the guardian's hasty slash with the saber in my free hand, slapping his weapon aside. Then I was past.

The consular recovered quickly, yanking Bastila out of my grasp and pulling her back to himself with the Force. I stumbled to a halt and turned back to face them.

I couldn't leave without her.

Before I had time to think of an actual plan, while the Jedi had their attention focused on me, Juhani struck from behind. I hadn't even seen her move, her innate ability to hide herself in the Force concealing her even from me.

Though she moved swift and silent, the guardian sensed her attack and spun to block at the last moment. He outclassed her by a lot, pushing her back and easily deflecting everything she tried to get past his guard.

Fury overwhelmed me and I dropped into a fighting crouch. I _would_ take Bastila to Malak, one way or another.

But right now, I was the weak link in this calculation.

I charged the guardian, again screaming what should have been a Force-enhanced wave of sonic power. But neither Jedi reacted this time, and apparently no level of desperate emotion could crack whatever lock the Council had placed on my connection to the Force.

I still had my lightsabers. No amount of blocking my Force abilities would remove my decades of combat training.

Even with his Force speed, the guardian couldn't defeat Juhani as long as I flanked him. The consular knelt beside Bastila, checking her for injuries and trying to revive her.

Observation: if we don't get her away fast, she'll wake up and we'll have _three_ Jedi on our hands.

Calculation: Juhani is incapable of holding this opponent alone. I have a better chance of keeping him busy than she does.

I nodded my head toward Bastila. "Juhani! We're running out of time. Take her, get to the ship. Ulen knows where to go. When you get there, tell him everything. When he knows I'm alive, he'll come for me."

I continued my all-out attack on the guardian, but the moment Juhani disengaged to go after Bastila it freed him to focus all his attention on me. And without the Force, I had no choice but to retreat.

Within seconds he had me pinned with my back to the wall, his blade at my throat.

I glanced behind him. The consular, despite his weaknesses, had disarmed and overpowered Juhani. The Council would be here within minutes.

I had to get free. Had to get Bastila away. I strained, pushing against the block the Council had placed in my mind, pleading with the Force to come to me.

It remained separate. I could see it, sense it, but not touch it. And without the Force, we were simply outmatched. If we couldn't get away very, very soon, we'd be watched and locked down for a long time. Now that they were onto me, I'd need an even more elaborate plan next time.

If it was just me, I'd have accepted temporary defeat and taken however long necessary to plot my next move. But I couldn't afford to wait that long. Malak needed me.

Bastila stirred. I sensed her waking, felt her through our unwelcome bond. In my current state, she was the only thing I could influence with the Force. My only chance out of this lay with her.

I focused and projected the darkest, most confusing set of mental images I could into her half-unconscious thoughts, gripping my sabers tighter in preparation.

Bastila screamed. She sat bolt upright, looking frantically from side to side.

The guardian turned, startled, and raised his saber protectively in front of him - away from me. The instant he'd started turning, I struck with all my strength and speed before he could react.

He blocked one blade, cursing, and tried to abort the turn. Not quickly enough. My second blade sliced him in two.

The consular flinched as his death echoed through the Force, his distraction enough for Juhani to break away and pull her dropped saber back to her hand.

Bastila raised her hand, calling to her own saber, but I gripped down on it harder as it struggled to escape my grasp.

"No you don't." I deactivated Belaya's saber, swapping it for Shone's already low-powered one. "Just relax, this will all be over soon and I promise I'll get you back here safe and alive."

Bastila remained befuddled from awakening in the middle of a battle, confused by my mental projections, and clearly unsure what was real. She glanced up at Juhani, now fighting the consular, then back at me in uncertainty. I stunned her before she could recover, then flicked the red blade's setting back up to lethal as I turned to our remaining adversary.

Juhani fought desperately, but she was still only a half-trained padawan. If the consular were fighting to kill, she'd be dead already. But though the older Jedi had a clear advantage, he still hesitated to harm a padawan - even a rebellious one who'd taken up with me. Even knowing how far we'd go, with his partner dead behind me, he still clung to Jedi weakness.

They both moved with speed enhanced by the Force, too fast for me to interfere with. I hesitated, calculating my chances. We had a minute or two before the Council reached us. Thankfully, despite one of their Jedi going down, they hadn't increased their measured pace.

Jedi arrogance would be our only salvation.

Calculation: Juhani has little chance of success, with or without my help. I can get Bastila to the ship and escape while Juhani distracts the Jedi. Or I can stay here and we'll both be captured. Have I said anything to Juhani which would hurt our cause if she reveals it?

I thought back, but apart from my intention to return immediately to Malak - which should be obvious to the Jedi as soon as they realized their control over me had slipped - there was nothing.

"Hurry up, Juhani! We need to go!" I heaved Bastila over my shoulder and set off jogging for the spaceport entrance. The continued clash of saber on saber behind me testified to Juhani's inability to escape.

I could come back for her if everything works out, but it's just as likely that the Jedi would brainwash her into following their outdated code and that she'd end up as an even more determined fool than ever. I knew they'd be able to spin my tempting her away into some deep lesson to bind her closer to them than ever.

I reached the door and began melting through with my saber, glancing back in case my assessment were incorrect. It wasn't. Juhani had gained some ground now - she fought blow for blow against the consular rather than retreating farther away from me, but couldn't fight past.

I shifted Bastila's body so I could bring my second saber in to help melt through the stubborn door. It made sense for the Jedi to protect the spaceport with extra weight doors, but this was taking too long.

Another minute and the Council members would come around the far corner. At this rate, the door would still be sealed.

I dropped Bastila and focused through the Force. I could see, even if I couldn't touch. Stretching forward, reaching into the future, I watched the fight between Juhani and the consular like a reverse echo. Shadows moved ahead of their real counterparts. I ran toward them silently, both sabers held out straight in front of me, focusing into the future so deeply I could barely tell the shadows from reality.

I struck at the consular from behind, but the Force warned him the moment my reality touched his future. Moving at a speed beyond what any physical strike could match, he spun in a circle and simply swept my blades aside.

I could sense the future, but he had all of the Force at his disposal. Juhani, only half-trained, hadn't been watching closely enough to anticipate her target's movement. She stumbled, having swung too hard at someone now off to the side.

I cursed. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! I needed Juhani so we could break through the door and escape, not to get entangled in another fight we couldn't win. But without the Force on my side, no surprise attack could actually catch a Jedi off guard. Juhani's sneak attack only worked because she'd wrapped herself in concealing Force. Mine didn't have that advantage. I shouldn't have forgotten.

He may not have been able to subdue Juhani without killing her, but now that he was fighting alone the consular had an impressive array of control tactics. He pushed, blocked, and retreated in a rapid rhythm that changed moment to moment.

Juhani tired much faster than I. If I hadn't come back for her, she'd have been defeated already.

And the Council were coming. I felt the pressure of their nearness now, inexorably advancing. No wonder they felt no need to rush. At this rate, they'd have us trapped like a kath hound in a tiny cave.

I searched desperately for anything more to try, any tactic, any trick. If only I could use the Force, I had two more lightsabers I could have put in play.

It was an advanced tactic few could master, fighting as though with two bodies, wielding sabers in battle, but my teacher had invented the technique and passed it on to me. Lightsabers had different weaknesses when not held physically, and you had to be careful to protect them from behind since a damaged setting could cause the whole thing to explode.

Without the Force, Belaya and Devre's lightsabers were worthless. I could toss them in the air, but they'd only fall to the ground without anyone's Force-enhanced will to guide them. I couldn't even throw them _at_ anyone; if I weren't mentally holding it active, the enemy could flick it off and render it harmless.

My mouth twitched reflexively into a brief smile. _I_ couldn't throw it. But I wasn't alone any more.

"Juhani, catch!" I tossed Shone's saber to her. She hadn't trained with two blades, but she caught it. "Throw it at him and run!"

She threw the saber, instinctively keeping it active as it skewered straight toward the consular. He raised his own blade to block, and I sprinted past him. Futureshadows still blurred reality. I saw myself a half-step ahead, but I couldn't let it distract me. We had no more time. If this failed, we were done.

I flicked Bastila's saber out at just the right angle as I ran past, carving a jagged line along Shone's saber hilt and knocking it off its straight course.

The saber began spinning as it continued toward our adversary, wobbling in its flight as the blade flickered and power built in its crystal without a proper outlet. Then it exploded.

I laughed aloud, grabbing Juhani's hand to steady her as the blast threw us forward. She stumbled, but with my sturdier weight to anchor her we ran onward without slowing until we reached the spaceport door.

I handed her Bastila's lightsaber, pointed her to the right spot, then drove my own two remaining blades into the place where I'd started before. With both of us, the door didn't stand a chance.

"Melar! Juhani! Stop this now." Master Vrook's harsh voice echoed down the hall.

"It is as we felt," Vandar said, pausing beside the dead guardian. "Eonad is dead."

"How could you do this after everything we've given you?" Master Dorak's voice sounded hurt, confused.

Juhani's line and mine came together. With a quick push of Force, she knocked the door section out. It slammed to the ground hard enough to crack the surrounding tiles. I deactivated my lightsabers and grabbed Bastila.

"Melar! Stand down at once."

If they'd attacked, they would have had us. But they stood, all the way down the hall, trying to talk me down.

I backed through the hole in the door, shaking my head at them. Juhani grabbed Bastila's legs and helped me, then we hurried toward the _Sheltered Starlight_.

As promised, Ulen had the engines running and ready to take off.

The council didn't run after us, didn't make any move to retrieve us. I wondered why as we lifted off. No one followed. No attempt was made to shoot us down or prevent us from leaving. How could the Council just stand by and let me take their best hope away?

Did they really believe that I'd side with them? That just because they'd tied me to Bastila with the Force, she could change me?

Then, as the ship turned toward the stars, a sharp and unyielding pulse of focused power echoed out through the Force, something harsh and metallic that tasted like oblivion.

I briefly sensed the entire council, their power combined, built up and woven together into this single final attack.

Then everything went completely blank.


End file.
